


Don't Leave (I'll Be Gone)

by NotARealGeek



Series: When Life Throws a Curveball [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Artist Steve Rogers, Darcy Lewis is Tony Stark's Daughter, Darcy is actually really happy, F/M, Fluff, Skinny Steve, Slow Build, Time Travel, World War II, don't ruin this, steve is an idiot
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-05
Updated: 2018-06-01
Packaged: 2018-07-12 09:24:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 26,947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7096648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NotARealGeek/pseuds/NotARealGeek
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's Jane's fault. It's always Jane's fault, really. A flash of light and Darcy is sent backwards through time straight into the path of a pre-serum Steve Rogers. Oh, and she meets her Grandfather.</p><p>How much trouble can a girl get into in 1940?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. TMSTLS (Too Much Science, Too Little Sleep)

**Author's Note:**

> So begins my first ever Fanfic

        Jane was on another science bender.

        36 hours without sleep, minimal food, and a shit-ton of coffee made Dr Foster turn into Ms Hyde. Darcy knew that if she didn’t do something quick, Jane was going to burst. “Janey! No more science, sleep time!” Darcy grabbed her purse and jacket  
        “Mmrphg, Thor,” Jane said around the pen in her mouth, trying to connect two wires to the machine her and Darcy built to produce science! waves that the Bifrost gave off. “Jane,” Darcy sighed, “It’s been two days. He might come back on his own. Put the wires down carefully before you electrocute the shit out of yourself.”  
        “Darcccyyy” Jane whined, dropping the pen down on top of the wires. “I-”  
        There was a flash of light and a beam of energy hit Darcy square in the chest. She started to fall...

 

        She landed on her ass in the middle of an alley, still blinded by the light.  
        “Miss! Are you alright?”

 

 

 

 

 

        Steve was on his way home from class when the alley next to him filled with light and a weird not-sound passed through his body. He peered around the dust bins just as a strange dame pitched backwards outta nowhere onto the ground. She was a real looker, even if her clothes were as queer as Dick’s hatband. Waves of dark hair fell to her waist, over curves that shouldn’t be legal in a tight fitting top that said “I Punch Assholes”. Her jeans were at least two sizes too small and looked like they had been painted on-  
        Steve cleared his throat. “Miss! Are you alright?”  
        She looked up at him with blue-green eyes gone wide with shock. “Where the fuck am I? Fucking hell! Jane! Shit!”  
        Steve turned bright red at her language. “Brooklyn, ma’am. Who’s Jane?”  
        “My boss, the one who accidentally pitched me ass backwards across the United States without a passport. Ouch!” She clutched her head.  
        “Are you alright?” He asked again, holding out a hand.  
        “Yeah, killer headache though. This doesn’t look like Brooklyn.” She took ahold of his hand and pulled herself up.  
        “Lived here my whole life,” He said confidently, “Got beat up in this alley once. What are you doing?”  
        “Calling Jane,” She said, pulling out a small rectangle from her purse. She pressed a button and the thing lit up, showing a picture of a puppy and a younger girl. Steve stared at her for a moment before shrugging a little and leaning against the wall. He wanted answers and he could wait all day to get them.

 

        The cute blond guy who had found her looked like he had never seen a phone before. Weird. Even weirder, there was no service. All the times she had been to New York with her dad and sister there had been cell service everywhere. “What the shit? No cell service? Not even one G of data? What the ever loving fuck?”  
        “Miss?”  
        Darcy looked over at Cute Blond Guy, actually looking at his clothes for the first time. The pit of her stomach did a chimichanga as she stared. “What’s the date?”  
        “June 8th, 1940.”  
        “SHIT!” This could not be happening, it was fifty years before she was born! Breathe deep, Darcy, she told herself. Jane will get me back. Dad is going to flip his shit!  
        “Miss? Can you take a deep breath for me?” Hands were guiding her back to sitting and putting her head between her knees. She gasped for air and fumbled for her purse. Cute Blond guided it to her hand. She unzipped the front pouch and grabbed her inhaler, taking two puffs before looking shakily up at the guy helping her. “Hi,” She said, “Darcy Lewis, time traveler.”  
        “Steve Rogers, impressed and confused. Are you going to be alright?”  
        “Probably not. I think I’m going to be sick.” She leaned over and puked in the alley.  
        “I think you better come with me.”

 

        Steve helped Darcy through the door of the apartment he shared with Bucky. “Bucky, I need your help!”  
        “What happened now punk? Who do I gotta beat the snot out of?” Bucky said, flipping the tea towel over his shoulder and walking into the livingroom. “Damn. Who’s the broad?”  
        “Fuck you, I’m a lady,” mumbled Darcy as she tipped forward.  
        “Woah!” Bucky dived forward to catch her, “Can’t say I ever heard a lady talk like that, doll.” He helped her over to the couch, “What’s the story this time pal?”  
        “She’s from the future.”  
        “Bullshit.”  
        “ ‘S true,” slurred Darcy from the couch. “Got ID t’ prove it.”  
        Steve shrugged. Bucky looked between them and sighed. “This is something I’ve got to hear. Show me that ID, sweetheart?” Darcy snored back at him. “Well, punk?”  
        “It goes like this...”

 

        Darcy woke up to the sound of quiet conversation and cutlery. She sat up stiffly and looked around, a blanket slipping from her shoulders. Her headache had faded a little, but from the looks of things, she was still in 1939 with Steve... Rogers. Steve Rogers and... Bucky. “Shit.” There was a clatter from the kitchen. “Miss Lewis?” Steve was right there suddenly.  
        “Steve.” She smiled, “I told you to call me Darcy.”  
        “How are you feeling?”  
        “My headache is better, thanks. I’m fucking STARVING though.”  
        “Oh.” Steve rubbed the back of his neck, “we don’t have much, but Bucky made pasta and there’s a bit left if...” he trailed off.  
        “That sounds great.” She smiled and stretched before getting up. “Thank you so much. I don’t mean to be a bother...”  
        “It’s no problem ma- Darcy.” Steve said quickly. “I’m happy to help. One thing though - can you show Bucky your proof? The jerk doesn’t believe in people from the future.”  
        “No prob, I gotta pee first though.” Steve blushed and directed her to the bathroom. She shut the door and leaned against it, taking deep breaths and trying not to flip her shit. She was in the same apartment as Captain America, beloved war hero and her grandfather’s second closest friend. Before her grandfather had even met him. She sank to the floor and put her head between her knees. Deep breaths weren’t helping get her back to the future. She was a Stark, and she could fix this. More importantly, she was a Lewis and she would get shit done, no matter what. She got up and used the toilet before going back out to face Steve Rogers, the man who would become Captain America.  
        “Steve?”  
        “In the kitchen Darcy!”  
        She grabbed her purse off the floor and walked into the kitchen. Bucky and Steve were seated at the table with a third chair waiting for her. She sat down and plonked her purse on the table. “What do you want to see first?”  
        “What about that rectangle I saw you use?”  
        “My phone, got it.” She dug around for a minute before pulling out her phone, wallet, taser, and keychain with flashlight. “Have at it.”  
        Steve reached for the phone and Bucky for the taser. “Look at this Buck!” He hit the button he had seen Darcy use and the screen lit up with Melody and her first “real” robot, Ciberus. “That’s my sister,” she said softly “and her puppy.”  
        “Woah.” Bucky said, “What does this dohicky do then, doll?”  
        “Electrocutes people. Don’t point it at your face.”  
        “Jesus.” he breathed, putting it down carefully and scooping up her wallet. “This your wallet doll?”  
        “Yup” she said, popping the ‘p’. “Wanna see something cool?” She took it back and dug out her driver’s licence, handing that over to him. He squinted at it and turned it over.  
        “Are these your keys? Why are there pictures on them?” Steve asked. Darcy laughed a little and reached for them. “It’s common where I come from I guess. Look at this though.” She took the flashlight and pointed it at the table.  
        “Woah...” The boys looked like they had been hit over the head with a frying pan. Then her stomach grumbled.  
        “Gosh, sorry Darcy.” Steve stood up and served her a bowl of spaghetti. Darcy looked at and giggled a little. “It looks like what my mom makes. Thanks Steve.” She practically inhaled the food, stopping only when the last of the sauce had been scraped from the sides of the bowl. “So what now?”  
        “Well doll, I’m convinced.” Bucky said, tossing the licence on the table. “Steve?”  
        “I believed her when she came flyin’ outta thin air.”  
        “Damn.”  
        “Do you have somewhere to stay? Because... I mean....”  
        “What the punk is trying to say is that you’re welcome to stay here for as long as you need,” Bucky said “but we better have a good story about where you came from.”  
        “Hmm.” Darcy tapped a finger against her chin, thinking. “How about this? I’m your cousin from the country Bucky. I’ve come to find work after my parents died, and all my things were stolen by a guy on the train. Does that work?”  
        “Sounds good to me. You sure are a spitfire, doll.”  
Steve shook his head at them. “Tomorrow’s Sunday, so we’ll go to church and see if the ladies have anything you can wear. I guess you’ll have to wear something of mine until then.”  
Bucky snapped his fingers, “Hold up!” he dashed out of the kitchen into the bedroom.  
        “What’s he up to?” Darcy asked. Steve shook his head, “Bucky has a lot of gals over. I think someone musta left a dress or somethin’.”  
        “Here!” He was holding a full skirt, “Becky left it last time she stayed over. M’ sister wouldn’t mind at all.”  
        “Thanks!” Darcy said, “That’s really nice of you.” She yawned again.  
        “Go get some sleep Darcy, we’ll wake you for church. Oh! Let me change the sheets for you-”  
        Darcy was passed out on the couch before he could say another word.


	2. DLLITP (Darcy Lewis, Lost In The Past)

        Sundays were Steve’s favorite days. He would wake up in the morning before Bucky, start the coffee and settle in to sketch the city from memory. That particular Sunday though - the day after Darcy tumbled into their lives - he put on the coffee and sat in his mother’s chair across from her. She was gorgeous in the early morning sun, her hair spread across the pillow and her mouth parted in sleep. He labeled the sketch Angel and went to pour a cup of coffee. When he got back, Darcy was sitting up and yawning sleepily.  
        “Coffee?” She asked, sounding barely awake. He grinned and handed her his cup, heading back into the kitchen to grab himself another cup. Bucky shuffled in and collapsed at the table, head pillowed in his arms. Steve shoved a cup of coffee at him and grabbed his sketchbook from where it was sitting on the coffee table. Darcy followed him into the kitchen and sat down next to Bucky in almost the same position. Steve had to hold back a snort as he set to sketching the pair of them. He was almost done when Darcy shook herself awake and drained her cup of coffee.  
        “Breakfast?” She said brightly, “I’ll cook if you show me where things are.” She stood and pulled the last if the eggs from the icebox.  
        “You don’t have to do that Darcy, Bucky’ll wake up soon. Or I could cook.” Steve offered.  
        “Nah,” Bucky said, “Punk once lit fire to boiling water while tryn’ to make pasta. Don’t let ‘im near the stove.”  
        Darcy snorted, “Yeah, Jane once lit the curtains on fire trying to make toast. She swore it was an accident, but I never let her back in the kitchen. You better stay away from the stove mister.” She poked Steve in the chest, “Or else.”  
        Steve blushed and tried to look innocent, “Who, me? I won’t cause a lick of trouble Darcy, cross my heart.”  
        “I’m on to you, Mr Rogers.”

 

  
        Darcy was in shock. 1940 and Steve Rogers! Who was cute as a button, by the way. That innocent schtick didn’t hold up past two seconds, but he really was just that kind and good. She had caught him sketching her that morning as she slept, but she didn’t mind. It didn’t feel sexual, just like an artist appreciating a beautiful scene. James “Bucky” Barnes, his best friend since childhood, was a little more appreciative of her “assets”, but he was still respectful. Darcy was sure that if she felt like a little fun, she would be tumbled into bed before she could blink and then out of it as soon as he woke up. The gentle teasing reminded her of her and Jane in the mornings, Jane lost in science land as Darcy made breakfast.  
        There were only two eggs left, so she used the trick Aunt Peggy had taught her to stretch the eggs and toasted the last of the bread that was going stale. The boys ate every last morsel before tromping off to get ready for church. Darcy put the dishes in the sink to soak and went to get her skirt on. It fit tightly across her stomach, making her suck in the little bit of gut that had survived Puente Antiguo. Her t-shirt was a little worse for wear, the dirt from the alley had stuck to it with a vengeance. She slipped into the bathroom while the boys were getting dressed and did her hair the way Aunt Peg had showed her, rolled up at the front and pinned up at the sides and back. Her purse held her concealer and favorite lipstick, so she did a quick makeup check and slipped back out before the boys needed the bathroom.  
        She sat down at the table and opened the diary her sister had bought her two years ago.

 

 

 

> _Dear Jane,_  
>  _I’m in 1940 with Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes. They’re really sweet to a girl from the future, I’m staying on their  couch for now. Today is Sunday, so the boys are taking me to church to get some real clothes for this time. All those lessons my Aunt Peggy had me sit through on things from the depression are really coming in handy. I wonder if she knew? Tell my dad that I’m alright, just a bit lost and confused. Tell Mels that she cannot take my place, Pepper needs her. Don’t let Erik forget about the real world. Remember to eat and sleep._  
>  _When I got thrown back by the waves of energy, I landed ass first in the past in an alley behind some trash cans. It felt like I was falling, then I really was falling. My head hurt like fuck. I think I shocked Steve with my language. He believed I was from the future right away, but Bucky took more convincing. I think my cellphone convinced them though._  
>  _I can’t fucking believe I go sent 70 years into the past. I guess I’ll get to meet my grandfather eventually. And Aunt Peg! That’ll be really weird. In the meantime, I’ll keep writing and trying to figure out how to get this book back to you._  
>  _Love,_  
>  _Darcy_

 

        Steve pulled open the door to the bedroom and walked out into the living room. Darcy was seated at the kitchen table, writing in a book. He cleared his throat. “Darcy?”  
        She jumped a little, “Steve! You startled me, fuck!” He turned bright red, and held out the shirt that he had found for her, “Here, your uh,” He tried to look her in the eye, “Your shirt isn’t real apropri- I mean - ah...” She giggled at him and took his shirt. “Thanks Steve! I’ll go put this on.”  
        She slipped out of the kitchen and left him standing there with her book and purse. He shut the book and sat down with his sketchbook, sketching the scene he had walked into. He really wanted to capture the look on her face, a little wistful and sad, but still determined to make the best of it. He was sketching when Bucky walked in.  
        “Stevie?”  
        “Mmhm”  
        “Steve. There’s a dame in our living room wearing one of your shirts and you’re in here drawin’. What am I gonna do with ya?” Bucky walked over to stand behind him and whistled quietly “Damn, pal. You got it bad for a gal we barely met.”  
        Steve blushed a little “She’s beautiful.”  
        “Well, ‘beautiful’ and I are going to church. Get movin’ punk.”Steve muttered under his breath about Bucky not bein’ his ma, but put down his pencil and grabbed his coat. When he walked out to the living room he stopped dead and stared at Darcy. His shirt fit her through the shoulders, but was strained to the max across her chest. He swallowed tightly and offered her his arm. “Darcy?” She took it with a grin. Her hair was pulled up and back, her lips cherry red and she looked at him like she was thrilled to be on his arm. His breath caught.  
        “You clean up nice Steve.”  
        “You- you look wonderful.”  
        “Thanks!”  
        “Alright folks, let’s get this show on the road before we miss mass.”

  
        Mass was not Darcy’s thing. She was raised Jewish/Atheist and had met a Norse god three days ago. Still, the service was nice, and the lesson seemed to be on point- even if the parts about faith didn’t really resonate. Steve stood at the end of mass and caught the arm of one of the old ladies in their row.  
        “Mrs. Robinson, I would like you to meet James’ cousin Darcy. She’s from out of town.”  
        “H- hello”  
        “Goodness gracious child, what are you wearing?”  
        Darcy started to tear up a little and sniffed “Steve lent me his shirt. Mine got all torn and all my bags were stoled on the train- my money and ma’s good jewelry and my references” A big tear started to roll down her face. She turned to Bucky and buried her face in his chest, sobbing.  
        “Her parents just died and her uncle kicked her out,” Bucky said over her head, “Do you ladies have anything she can wear? She’s staying with me ‘n Steve until she can get back on her feet.”  
        “Of course. Come with me child, we’ll sort you out.”  
        “Go on spitfire, we’ll be here. I promise.”  
        Darcy let Mrs. Robinson lead her away from those boys, her tears still flowing down her face. She had never been so glad that her dad had taught her how to cry on command. Mrs Robinson handed her a handkerchief and started to talk.  
        “Well Darcy, that’s a mighty string of rotten luck. But, the lord will provide! James and Steve are nice enough lads, when they’re not over their heads in some brawl. Maybe you can steady them out a little. Here we are! Ladies!” A group of women in their 40s-50s looked up “This is James’ cousin Darcy. She’s from- where did you say dear?”  
        “Maine.” Sniffed Darcy  
        “And she had her things stolen on the train. Do we have anything that will do?”  
        By the time Darcy left the church hall, she was loaded down with all sorts of things that she would need in the 1940s. Including the underwear that was on of the first things Aunt Peg had told her how to work. God, that was an awkward lesson. She was starting to tear up for real when she reached the boys.  
        “Can we go?” She sniffed again. “They were really sweet, but I’m tired.”  
        “Sure thing spitfire, let’s go.”  
        Steve handed her his handkerchief and took her arm, guiding her back to the apartment where she sat down heavily on the couch and started to sob quietly.  
        “Darcy? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”  
        “Oh Steve. I’m here 50 years before I’m even born. Nobody I know is alive yet and I can’t even tell anyone else about me! I’m a Stark and a Lewis and that’s nothing here and now. I’m nothing!”  
        “Oh Darcy.” He sat next to her and held her close to him letting her sob on his shoulder until she was exhausted and out of tears. Then he leaned her back until she was laying down and got up. He came back with a glass of water and smoothed back the hair that had fallen in her face. “We will do our best here. I’m sure that your Jane is looking for a way to get you back, and your parents are probably looking for you too. If you got here, you can get back. I believe in you Darcy. You can stay with us until you get back to your time.”  
        “Spitfire,” Bucky knelt down next to her, “You made the best eggs I’ve ever tasted this morning. If nothing else, that’s enough to keep ya ‘round.”  
        Darcy gave them a watery smile, “Thanks.”  
        “Take a nap, Darcy. You’ll feel better after.”

 

        “What are we gonna do, punk? She’s got us already.”  
        “I don’t think it’s like that. I think she recognized us from the future or something. She got really weird after I said your name.”  
       “Who do we become to last over fifty years?”  
       “I don’t know Buck. I trust her though.”  
       “Alright. I gotta run, Johnson gave me an extra shift down at the docks.”

 

        Darcy woke up to dusk and the sound of clanging and swearing in the kitchen. “Steve? You better not be trying to cook. Bucky warned me not to let you touch the stove.”  
        “Darcy!” Steve poked his head around the corner “I was going to surprise you with dinner...”  
She laughed, “Never mind, it was a nice thought. “ She padded into the kitchen, “Let me take over Steve. Do you think you could turn on the radio?”  
        “Sure.” He walked over to the radio and flicked it on. The sound of Glenn Miller’s “In The Mood” filled the tiny kitchen, and Darcy started to bop along as she finished putting together the soup that Steve had started. Steve sat down at the table and started to sketch her again as her skirt swirled around her and the soup started to take shape. That evening turned golden as the night wore on. Bucky came back and ate some soup before falling into bed. Darcy and Steve sat at the table and talked quietly about the things that were different here and back in her time. A couple of times, she started to say something and then stopped herself. They found similarities in the way they liked their coffee and their favourite flavour of ice cream. Eventually, Darcy started to yawn with every other word. They finished the cleaning up and she fell asleep in the couch before he could offer his bed.


	3. HBS (Happy Birthday Steve)

        She slotted into their lives as if a Darcy-shaped hole had been left for her to fall into. By the end of two weeks Steve couldn’t imagine life without her. By the end of the month, he was half hoping she would never have to leave. The routine became that Darcy would make breakfast, ten Steve and Bucky would leave for work and classes, respectively, and Darcy would help Mrs Grierson with the laundry and fix up whatever caught her fancy in the apartment. At five o’clock, Darcy would walk over to the college and her and Steve would walk to get Bucky as often as they could. They ate together most nights, and when they could they went to the picture and occasionally went to the clubs of bars for a drink or two. Steve and Darcy got into a couple fights over sleeping arrangements and what she was doing to help out. In the end, she still slept on the couch, but stopped worrying so much about finding a job. Darcy and Bucky only got into one big knock-out drag-out fight about Darcy going out after dark. Steve still wasn’t sure who had won.

        The dresses from the church fit her like a dream, her curves filling them to perfection. She slimmed a little because of the Depression and having less food. All the ladies in the neighborhood thought she was an angel and the jerks that hung around learned not to get on Darcy’s bad side, ‘cause she would whoop your ass without thinking twice. Bucky caught Steve staring at her like he wasn’t sure if she was real more and more often as she stayed with them. At first he thought about chasing her like he would have any other girl, but the cover story of being his cousin was too good, and she quickly became like a little sister to him. At about one month since she had arrived she saw them off with a kiss and told them to find their own way home that evening.

  


        Darcy had started to adjust to being in the past slowly. She still woke up shouting for JARVIS or Jane or her mom, making Steve and Bucky come running. She would cry on their shoulders until she fell asleep and pretend that everything was fine in the morning.  There was no question that she was grateful to her boys for taking her in, but she missed her family and Jane.

  


 

> June 15th, 1940
> 
> _Dear Janey,_
> 
> _Pop-tarts haven’t been invented yet. I miss you. When are you going to get me back?_
> 
> _Sorry, it’s been a long day. Steve and I had a fight about whether or not I should be sleeping on the couch and I won through logic and sheer stubbornness. He’s almost worse than my dad. Definitely worse than Melody. The ladies from church keep asking when I’m going to settle down with a nice boy and introducing me to their sons and grandsons. The food is pretty bland, I miss spices. The clothes are cool, I guess. Major cleavage control and high necklines all over the place. People are assholes about what women are allowed to do, so I still can’t find a job._
> 
> _Money’s tight, but things are cheap these days. I’ve never been so glad for the “life lessons” Aunt Peggy made me sit through. Mrs Greirson gives me a nickel to help with the laundry and cleaning in the apartment block, but I need a real job._
> 
> _I guess that goes to show that even being a Stark won’t save you from these things when push comes to shove. Please bring me home Jane. I’m going crazy._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Darcy_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> _Dear Melody,_
> 
> _Do not take my Star Wars poster. That’s mine! I miss you like crazy, and wish I could come home. I hope I don’t miss your birthday, but if I do, I’ll make sure I find a way to get presents from here to there. Tell dad not to go crazy and Pep that I’m making things work. I love you a lot. You would love Bucky, he’s like an older brother and isn’t at all like the comics. He would laugh his but off at being in a comic. I’m staying on Captain America’s couch. The Couch of Freedom!_
> 
> _Love_
> 
> _Darcy_
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> June 23rd, 1940
> 
> _Dear Janey-Jane_
> 
> _Beam me up Scotty! I keep making references to things that haven’t happened yet. I mentioned 9/11 and the boys stared at me for almost a full minute!_
> 
> _PLEASE BRING ME HOME. I want a frappachino and one of those caramel muffins. Or a slushie. It was hot as hell today and the boys wouldn’t let me make an air conditioner because quote; “no messing with timelines Darcy!” BORING. Who’s to say I’m not the one who invented AC?_
> 
> _Steve and I had another fight. That man is as stubborn as an ass! He keeps telling me not to worry about getting a job, even though he has one and Bucky has two and money is still tight. He won this one, though. I’m still looking, but not as franticly. Don’t worry about me, although I think I’ve lost weight. I guess going hungry some nights does good things for convention. I miss my stomach. I want to come home and have an entire bag of doritoes by myself._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Darcy_
> 
>   
> 
> 
> June 30th, 1940
> 
> _Happy Birthday Janey!_
> 
> _I bought you a old time star necklace from the pawn shop down the road. Don’t tell the boys, but I won the money in a game of poker with the fellas at the docks. Suckers don’t know how to count cards. I have never been so grateful for friday night poker with my dad._
> 
> _I hope you like it! It’s real silver with a cubic zirconia in the center. I’m going to make it play music! Have a good birthday and eat lots and lots of cake for me_
> 
> _Love_
> 
> _Darcy_
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> _Dad,_
> 
> _I’m fine, stop fussing. You’re going to make Dummy cry. Pepper is always right so stop fighting her. The party was dumb and I hope you fixed my bedroom by the time I get back to the future. The newspapers had a piece about the party of the century at Stark’s and I almost started to cry before I realized it was some other Stark being dumb. I think I’ve fixed everything there is to fix in this apartment. The fridge now has a freezer unless the power goes out, the radio sounds much better now that it doesn’t need the antennas and the door stopped sticking weeks ago. I have so many ideas and sketches for improvements that I’ve started to drive Steve nuts wearing out his pencils._
> 
> _Don’t finish the full-size reactor until I get back or I’ll be annoyed. Really annoyed. Give Dummy, Butterfingers, and You my love. Tell JARVIS that he’s the best AI ever made and that I miss my older brother._
> 
> _Love_
> 
> _Your baby Darcy_
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> July 4th, 1940
> 
> _Jane the Magnificent!_
> 
> _Grant me my own Time! My phone just ran out of juice and I think my iPod’s next. I would make something to charge them but I just don’t have the parts. I’m two days away from melting down some pennies and making my own wires. If I can melt them..._
> 
> _Today’s Steve’s Birthday, so I’m writing in the morning while I wait for the pie dough to chill. Mrs Peirce from church gave me her recipe for sour cherry pie and Bucky said that it was Steve’s favourite so I bargained with the fruit delivery guy. He told me if I could fix his truck he would give me a free bag of fruit every load, so I made it purr like a kitten. He was so impressed that I have enough apples for two pies as well as the cherries!_
> 
> _God I sound like a Fucking housewife. Jane! Get me out of here! I’m going to start messing with the timelines on purpose! I swear to fucking Thor!_
> 
> _Love_
> 
> _Darcy_
> 
> _P.S. You better not be fucking Thor instead of getting me out of this shitty situation_
> 
> _P.P.S. Don’t forget to eat_
> 
>   
> 

        Darcy rolled out the dough for the last pie and bounced along to the Kaiser Chiefs as she transferred the pastry to the pie dish for the the cherry pie and poured in the filling. She cut and lay down the lattice in time to AC/DC. The last strip of lattice was crimped to the bottom when her iPod stuttered and died. She dropped the knife and started to sniff back tears as she put the pie in  the oven and wound the kitchen timer she had borrowed from their neighbor. Yanking her headphones out of her ears, she collapsed at the kitchen table and started to sob.

        “Darcy? Are you in here doll? I got a half day from Johnson thanks to that last poker game of yours, and-”

 

        Bucky normally came home to an apartment filled with the sound of Darcy’s weird music, or the radio on full blast. The silence was a little unnerving as he reached the kitchen to find his new found baby sister sobbing at the kitchen table and clutching one of her odd devices. “Darcy, what happened?”

        “My iPod died,” She sobbed, “That was the last thing I had from my time and now I’ve got to listen to the radio all the time and I jus-st want to go h-home but Jane hasn’t f-figured it out and it’s b-been a m-month” She was crying so hard she almost couldn’t breathe.

        “Oh Darcy. Little sister.” He scooped her up and tucked a blanket around her before fetching a glass of water and pulling her into a tight hug. “It’ll be okay. We’re here for you for as long as you are. I’m never going to forget my little sister who fell on her ass in front of Stevie and followed him home. You can make this your home. Hell, you already have! Who else would have gone to that much trouble to find out what Steve’s favorite pie was? And I know that you’re fixing things up around here. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how the door stopped creaking and the lock stopped sticking. Or the oven that stays at the same temperature or the icebox that keeps thing cold. Not cool, cold. We’re blessed to have you here, doll. I hope that you can start to see this as a new - maybe temporary, but still- home.”

        Darcy’s tears started to dry as she listened to Bucky. She sniffed. “Am I forgiven for going out at night that one time?”

        “Doll, I wasn’t mad, I was scared outta my mind for you. The punk doesn’t even go out alone at night in this part of town.”

        “Okay.” They sat there for a minute, Bucky resting his chin on her forehead and waiting for the storm to pass. Then she shifted and drained the glass of water. “Pie,” She said, standing and shuffling into the kitchen. The timer went off as she reached the oven and she opened the door. The pie was perfectly golden brown with the red of the cherries peeking through. She pulled it out a placed it on the rack next to the other two. She then took out the old chipped blue mixing bowl and started to make enough potato salad to feed an army.

        “What’s cookin’?”

        “Mrs Peirce traded her cherry pie recipe with me, so I’m making the potato salad for the potluck tonight. If you want to help you can peel the eggs that are in the sink. Don’t worry too much about the price, Sharon gave me money to fix up their fridge the other day and Alice from down the street needed somebody to look at her parent’s jalopy.”

        “Doll, you don’t have’ta worry ‘bout money. Ever since you got here Stevie and I have been living like kings. We’re real glad that you took over the household.”

        Darcy snorted. “Sure, but that’s not the only reason I wanted a job. I’m getting bored stuck at home all day with nothing to do. You wouldn’t like me when I’m bored.”

        “Fair.”

  


        Steve was pretty sure this was the best birthday yet. Darcy had made pancakes and figured out the coffee maker, and there had been a peppermint stick in his lunch! He practically bounced home and through the courtyard where the apartment block was setting up for the fourth.

        “Hey Steve!"

        “Hi Gloria!”

        He took the stairs carefully, not wanting to risk another asthma attack on his birthday. The lock opened smoothly and the door swing wide.

        “HAPPY BIRTHDAY!” Darcy and Bucky were standing there in their formal clothes, presents in hand and huge grins on their faces. Steve started to tear up as Darcy handed her present to Bucky and bounced over to him. “Happy birthday Steve!” She flung her arms around him and pressed a big kiss to his cheek. He laughed as she towed him over to the couch and shoved her present at him.

        “Oh, is this for me?”

        “Steve you little shit. Of course! Open!”

        He thought about holding out, but Bucky sat down next to him and he couldn’t resist. The newspaper wrapping was torn from the present with gleeful abandon. A small metal box held an array of coloured pencils and charcoal, including different thicknesses of lead. “Darcy! How much were these?”

        “Don’t worry Steve, I won the money from a sucker by the docks. He didn’t know what hit him.”

        “Darcy-”

        “Open your other present!”

        Steve knew when he was beat, so he turned to Bucky and opened the present. A pair of oxford shoes, shiny and almost new. “Buck!”

        “You kept sayin’ your shoes were almost worn through.”

        “And you said we didn’t have the money to buy them!”

        “Cause I’d already got them by that time.”

        “Don’t argue Steve. Go put on your nice clothes, we’re hitting the town!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the pie recipe: http://www.cooks.com/recipe/u404q83a/old-fashioned-cherry-pie.html  
> The potato salad is a family secret though


	4. DLSW (Darcy Lewis Starts Work)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy had a lot to say this chapter, so this is entirely letters. Next chapter should focus on the boys and what happens next (September 1, 1939)  
> Comments give me life!

 

 

 

> July 5th, 1940
> 
> _Jane_
> 
> _I think I’m royally fucked. Steve and Bucky are the best, and now I’m not even sure if I want to come home if it means leaving them behind. One month Jane. ONE MONTH. Obviously I still miss you and my family, but I never would have wanted to leave you either. Now it feels like the best of a bad job might be to come back the slow way. Or not at all..._
> 
> _I miss you like you wouldn’t believe. Who’s making sure you eat and sleep? Is it Clint or one of the MiB? Did you find out where Erik went? Are you with my Dad trying to figure this out? All these questions are driving me crazy._
> 
> _I guess I found a job. When we went to the potluck yesterday, Sharon mentioned that I had fixed up their refrigerator, so now all of the ladies are asking me to fix things up. On Saturday I’m going to take a look at the lights in the Church to try to repay the ladies that gave me my things. It’s really starting to seem real, not temporary or like a dream. I burnt myself on the oven yesterday, so I guess this is reality. Steve freaked out when he found out that I had been hiding the burn, but I guess he was a little impressed with my first aid and left it alone after that._
> 
> _Speaking of Steve, he is the sweetest and kindest guy I’ve ever met. And he’s a little shit too. I might have a crush on him.... I hope it turns out to be nothing, I think he sees me as a little sister, like Bucky._
> 
> _Well, it’s pretty late here. Steve just finished the dishes and the Penfold People is winding down on the radio, so I’d best sign off._
> 
> _Love_
> 
> _Darcy_
> 
>  
> 
> July 15th, 1940
> 
> _Dear Janey_
> 
> _I got my first pair of pants since leaving the future. It was one hell of an argument with the guy selling them to me! He wanted to charge more because I was single and a lady (his words not mine) he said that I had no business wearing pants or fixing things. Well, the parish ladies heard about that, and since the lights in the church stay on without flickering now (faulty wiring) they shut him up right quick. Mrs Robinson traded tailoring on my pants for fixing the radio, so that’s where I was today. It felt real strange to be up on a ladder in skirts when I was fixing the lights._
> 
> _Speaking of skirts, Steve found this black dress for when we go out! I tried to tell him that it was too much, but he wouldn’t listen. I never could resist pretty things, and he got a bonus for helping out with a mural on the side of Mr O’Jarvey’s store down the block. It’s absolutely lovely. I told him he would have to take me dancing. He said that he didn’t know how, and I told him neither did I. That’s one thing Aunt Peg missed in her lessons! I guess it’s hard to teach someone how to dance when you’re in your 80s._
> 
> _Speaking of the block, almost everyone here has asked me to fix something or take a look as something else! I guess I shouldn’t have worried about not finding a job. I’m a little worried now that someone might rat me out to Howard, but I think that they’re too scared of losing their repair girl._
> 
> _Love_
> 
> _Your Repair Girl,_
> 
> _Darcy_
> 
>  
> 
> July 30, 1940
> 
> _Janey,_
> 
> _I think sometimes people forget I wasn’t always here. The neighborhood has swallowed me whole. Mrs Robinson told me in the beginning that I should try to keep the boys out of trouble, but I’m fairly sure we get into more scrapes now that the guys in the neighborhood see me. The first time we got into a scrape it was 9 against three, and I think that I almost gave Buck a heart attack. Three of the guys separated me from my boys and tried to herd me down an alley. I managed to knock two of them out thanks to Happy’s boxing skills, and the third went down twitching from my taser._
> 
> _I tore my dress though. It was my fave! It was blue , with a scoop neckline and those little collar pieces, you know? And it flared at the knee really prettily. Now my second best dress has become my best every day one. It’s burgundy with little purple flowers._
> 
> _I hope that by the time I get back Melody has finished the hat she was making for me. It was my favorite colour and so super soft! Although, the weather here has been hot enough I wouldn’t want a beenie. Not as hot as New Mexico though. Speaking of, did you remember the dishes in the dishwasher haven’t gone through yet? If I get back and there’s an ecosystem in the dishwasher I will not be pleased._
> 
> _A snippet of conversation from today:_
> 
> _“You don’t have much of an accent dear, where were your parents from?”_
> 
> _“Well, I grew up in Maine, but Ma was from Brooklyn and Pa from down south.”_
> 
>  
> 
> _All these lies are going to catch up with me eventually. I’m really glad that nobody wants to ask to hard these days, when I’m the only reason half the neighborhood is still working. Steve just finished the dishes and the Penfold People is over so I’m of to bed (couch)._
> 
> _Love_
> 
> _Darcy_
> 
>  
> 
> August 6th, 1940
> 
> _Dear Jane,_
> 
> _I think things are really starting to settle. I’m happy with my job, the boys are glad that I’ve stopped rattling around in an empty apartment all day. I can almost forget that WWII has started and in September I'll lose Bucky.In a couple, I’m going to lose Steve too. I want to come home. I almost wish this had never happened- except I would always want the chance to get to know these two. ~~I~~_ _~~love him~~ ~~I can’t imagine my life~~_
> 
> _I’m so hooped Jane. If you get me back, do it before I have to see them go._
> 
> _Darcy_
> 
>  

“Doll? You alright?”

“I’m fine Buck. Just got dust in my eye.” _Sniff_

 

 

 

>  
> 
> August 16th, 1940
> 
> _Dear Janey,_
> 
> _I’ve finally convinced Steve and Bucky to write you a letter! Each, I mean. It took some doing, but I know that you will want to hear from them too. There’s only so much I can say to reassure you that I’m fine. I might not be Happy, but sometimes that takes time. I’m learning to be patient and take each day on its own_
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Your Darcy_
> 
>  
> 
> **_Dr. Foster,_ **
> 
> **_My name is Steve Rogers and Darcy asked me to write this letter. I guess you’re the one who sent her here? The first thing she said was about you. She swore a lot too. She has a real mouth on her._ **
> 
> **_I think she’s been adjusting real swell for a gal not born for a half century. She got me the best birthday present ever, and I know that she bought you something for your birthday. It’s sitting on the shelf in the kitchen, wrapped in brown paper. I feel like I should include some of my drawings of Darcy, like the one when we went to the fireworks, of her writing her first letter, but I don’t really want to give up any of my pictures. Her and James get along real great, they seem to have a competition on who can make me blush more (Darcy is winning)._ **
> 
> **_It’s weird to think that by the time someone reads this, I’ll be dead. I asked Darcy if she knew and she just got real quiet. She does that whenever we ask about the future. Still, if you get her talking about you or Theo (your fella?) she can go on for ages. And some of the technology she describes is out of this world!_ **
> 
> **_I’m going to pass the book to Bucky - that’s James Barnes- so he can write a note_ **
> 
> **_Yrs_ **
> 
> **_Steve Rogers_ **
> 
>  
> 
> **Dr Foster**
> 
> **This is James Barnes. You can call me Bucky, any friend of Darcy’s is a friend of mine. Tell me, when are you going to take our spitfire back? Its gotta be real lonely without her. She says you don’t have anyone else. I hope you can get her back, there’s something about the future that’s really buggin’ her.**
> 
> **Barnes**
> 
>  
> 
> August 29th, 1940
> 
> _Dear Jane,_
> 
> _I’m finally happy. I love you and my family. When you get me back, I’ll have so much to tell you._
> 
> _Love Always,_
> 
> _Darcy_
> 
>  


	5. KUWD (Keeping Up With Darcy)

July 4th, 1940

        Steve was absolutely sure this had been the best day of his life. After a stellar round of presents, the three of them had went down to the block party. Between Darcy and the church ladies, the neighborhood had organized into a terrific spread. Darcy even made three pies! She sat him down in between her and Bucky, next to the Jeffersons and the Peirce family. The entire block showed up in the stifling heat to celebrate independence day.

        “So, Darcy,” Mr Jefferson said, “I heard you fixed up Sharon’s icebox. Do you think you could take a look at ours? My wife will be home all day tomorrow.”

        “Sure! Does one o’clock work for you?”

        “Ye-”

        “DARCY” Mrs. Peirce bellowed from around Bucky and Steve, “Can you repair things? Would you be a dear and take a look at the lights in the church? They keep flickering during our meetings.”

        “Does Saturday work?”

        “I will expect you then.”

        Steve grinned down at his plate. “I guess you shouldn’t of worried about getting work, huh Darcy?”

        “What do you mean?”

        “Repair work is work, spitfire.”

        “I- oh.”

        Steve and Bucky traded a look and settled back into their food, trying not to laugh at their guest. The food was amazing, Darcy’s potato salad an instant hit and the other dishes gone in a flash. Then Darcy stood and winked at Bucky and he started singing happy birthday as Darcy placed an entire pie in front of Steve, complete with a candle. He looked up at her, startled.

        “Darcy! I thought you already got me a present!”

        “And I baked a pie. Blow out your candle now, Steve.”

        When Darcy first cut a slice of pie, Steve started to tear up a little. Cherry pie was his favorite, and cherries were very expensive this time of year.

        “Where did- How did- Darcy!”

        “Just eat the pie.”

        “This is amazing! I haven’t had cherry pie since-” He stopped dead. Bucky put a hand on his shoulder and gave him a smile.

        “Go on punk, we’re waiting for you.”

        Steve gave everyone a big grin and dove right into his pie. When he surfaced, everybody was cleaning their plates and smiling real big, like nothing in the world could go wrong. Darcy was chatting away with Alice and Bucky was flirting with Sharon across the table, who blushed and promised him a dance that friday at the dance club on fourth. There was nothing in the world that could compare with that scene, the block covered in golden sunlight and everybody laughing and chatting. His hands itched for his sketchbook and new coloured pencils, to try to capture a slice of this evening. At a signal from Mrs. Grierson, the ladies gathered the dishes up and took took them back to their homes. The guys and Darcy all stayed on the courtyard for a moment as Sharon gathered up their dishes for them.

        “Thank you so much Sharon, I’ll get them back tomorrow if that works for you.”

        “Sure thing Darcy! Thanks ever so for fixing up my icebox, dad was real pleased.”

        “Oh, it wasn’t any trouble. Let me know if anything happens to it!”

        “I will!”

        Darcy looked over at Alice, “Are we ready to go yet?”

        “Sure, I’ll go get Jimmy.”

        “What’s going on here Darcy?”

        “When I fixed up Alice’s jalopy she agreed to take us to the best place to see the fireworks. I think she’s ready to go, c’mon!”

        “Damn Darce, you really went all out!”

        Steve’s favorite memory from that day would always be that of Darcy in her burgundy dress lit by fireworks, lips parted and eyes wide in awe as they watched from the hood of the car. When they finally stumbled in to the apartment he grabbed his new pencils. It became his best drawing of Darcy.

  


July 15th, 1940

 

        “Darcy, at least give me a hint,” Steve begged, not liking the look in her eye at all.

        “Not a chance! You’ll see when you come home, and not a moment before.”

        “Give it up Steve. She ain’t gonna budge. Our girl likes secrets too much.”

        “Damn straight.”

        Steve sighed, but nodded. He really ought to have known better. One month, and the first thing he had learned about Darcy was that she was as stubborn as an ass. He grabbed his coat and locked up behind him and Bucky.

        “You sweet on our girl?”

        He dropped his keys. “What- I- N- It’s just-” He rolled his eyes “Yes. How did you know?”

        “I’ve got eyes, pal. Darcy’s a swell dame. Real sweet, curvier than hell. You should ask her out. Dancing or something.”

        “A girl like Darcy is never gonna go for a guy like me. Give it a rest.”

        “I think you’re wrong.”

 

        Bucky’s words kept echoing through his mind. _I think you’re wrong._ Really though, what girl in a million years would look twice at a scrawny guy like him? _I think you’re wrong._ It was all he could think about on his walk home. _Dancing or something._ A dress in the window of the second hand shop caught his eye. It was black with a bit of lace for the sleeves and a tight skirt. He looked carefully at the model, pulling out his sketchbook to check it against a drawing of Darcy. It looked almost perfect. The money from his bonus for the mural weighed in his pocket and he thought about it for a moment before pushing open the door to the shop.

 

        “Darcy!” Steve pushed open the door with his shoulder, “I’m home-” Darcy was standing there in a pair of perfectly tailored coveralls, biting her lip and looking a little nervous.

        “What do you think? I mean, they’re mostly for work.” She smoothed the her stomach. Steve stared, dumbstruck. “Steve? Please say something.”

        “Darce, I- you look real beautiful. Can I- can I draw you?”

        She laughed. “Sure. Draw me like one of your french girls Steve.”

        “What?”

        “Never mind. How do you want me?”

        Steve turned bright red. “Just sit on the couch I guess. However’s comfortable.”

        Darcy sat on the couch, stretched out and picked up the book she had been reading before he had gotten home. The two of them sat there for a good half hour, completely absorbed. Bucky came home to silence for the second time since Darcy had arrived and immediately shouted for them, “STEVE! DARCY!”

        “Fucking hell Bucky, you scared the crap out of me. What time is it?”

        “Five-thirty, doll. What are you two up to that’s so quiet?”

        “Steve was drawing me in my coveralls. What do you think?”

        “You sure are a sight.”

        “Gee Buck, you sure know how to make a girl feel pretty!” Darcy flounced into the kitchen and started banging around. Bucky looked at Steve and wiggled his eyebrows. _Make a move_ he mouthed as he backed into the kitchen to help Darcy. Steve looked down at the series of sketches that he had drawn that afternoon and made a decision. He scooped up the parcel from the door and walked into the kitchen.

        “Darce?”

        “Yeah?”

        “I have something for you. I bought it today.”

        “Steve, what-” She turned halfway around and grabbed the back of the chair “Woah, head rush. What is it?”

        “Here, open.”

        She tore the parcel open with almost gleeful abandon, and shook out the dress. “Steve! How did you get the money for this? It’s gorgeous.”

        “I had a bonus from the mural at the dry goods store down the block. There’s five dollars leftover for the cashbox.”

        “Go try it on, doll. I can handle this.”

         Darcy skipped out of the room and into the bathroom giddily.

        “Good move,”

        “Shut up Barnes.” Steve moved to help, but Bucky forcibly shoved him into a chair. “Don’t try to help.” Bucky threatened, shaking his finger at Steve. Steve huffed and settled into his chair.

        Darcy walked into the room and gave a little twirl. Steve almost swallowed his tongue as he stared at her. She had taken the time to pull her hair back and put on her lipstick. The dress looked like it was made for her, blue-green scraps of lace barely covering her shoulders and a sweetheart neckline that skimmed over the top of her breasts. The skirt flared around her knees gracefully as she shifted.

        “Darcy...”

        “Gosh. If you weren’t my baby sister, I’d make a move, doll.”

        “That almost makes up for your comment earlier. Well Steve, I’m all gussied up. You gonna take me dancin’?”

        “I- I don’t know how?”

        “Me neither. We can teach each other.”

        “It’s a plan.”

  


July 30, 1940

  


        “Those three have been trouble since they moved in. You would think that having a lady around would make them act like gentlemen.”

        “I think that that Darcy is just as bad as the boys. I hope she gets her act together this year.”

        Steve wasn’t sure what it was about the conversation they overheard on their way home that made Darcy stiffen and race to write in her journal. The two of them had gotten into another scrape. Well, he had gotten into another scrape, and Darcy had pulled him out of it. She was one hell of a woman. He held the handkerchief to his nose and tried to stop the bleeding by tilting his head back. At least this time it wasn’t broken.

  


August 6th, 1940

  


        Steve tried to breathe through the tightness in his chest. Darcy sat on one side of him, rubbing his back in a circular motion. Bucky kept on making dinner and shooting worried glances his way. At least Darcy didn’t try to talk him through it, like he was trying not to breathe. She gently pulled his hands up so they were resting on his head and kept rubbing circles on his back.

        The attack lasted for a half hour. It wasn’t the longest one he had ever had, but it was bad. Darcy had been real swell about the whole thing and when he asked to go lie down, had offered to bring him some soup broth. She tapped on the door.

        “Steve? Do you think you could manage some broth?”

        He coughed, “Yes,” came out as a hoarse whisper.

        She brought in a mug of soup and sat down next to him. “I thought that since Bucky and I are done, I could tell you a little about the future. Does that sound good?” Steve nodded. “Alright. I was born in 1991 to Tony Stark, Howard Stark’s son. By the time I was ten, everybody had their own personal computer connected to the internet. A computer is like a television that you can control what goes on. The internet is what the computers connect to to share ideas and information. You can play games that make you feel like you can do anything!  And everyone has a portable telephone that can send instant messages. And-”

        “Darcy,”

        “Yeah?”

        “Do I get to see it?”

        “Steve- I- I can't- I have to go.”

  


August 16th, 1940

 

        Darcy had been avoiding him for the past week and a bit. Well, not avoiding exactly, but she hadn’t tried to spend one on on time with him since he asked about the future. Steve resolved not to ask anymore questions about his life. It wasn’t worth the distance.

        “Alright, what’s going on punk.”

        “I asked Darcy about the future. I think I die soon.”

        “Damn. Does she mean any time in the next 50 years soon, or tomorrow soon, or what?”

        “I don’t know.”

        “You should apologize.”

        “I don’t think she wants to talk to me.”

        “And not talking has solved how many of your problems?”

        “You’re one to talk.”

 

        “Darcy?”

        She dropped one of the pans with a resounding clang. “Steve, I-”

        “Darcy, I’m sorry. I won’t ask any more questions about the future. I don’t want to hurt you, I think it’s real swell that you’re here with us now.” He suddenly found himself with an armful of Darcy. She buried her face in the crook of his neck. “I just found you. I don’t want to lose you.” She mumbled.

        “I’ll be here as long as I can. I don’t want to lose you either.”

        “Will you- Would you write a letter to Jane?”

        “If you want me to.”

  


August 29th, 1940

 

        “Damn.” Bucky tossed the newspaper on the table. “The Germans are all over Poland. I hope that Hitler guy knows when to stop.”

        “He won’t.”

        “Darce?”

        “I’m fucking tired of pretending that everything is going to be fine. It’s not! The entire world is going to dissolve into war! I keep trying to go on like I don’t fucking know what happens next! I tried! And I know that everything is going to go to shit, and I’m going to lose you both!”

        “Good God, Darcy.”

        “We’ll never leave you behind, doll.”

        “Anywhere we go, we’ll find a way to take you with us. I’m sure the army has positions for women. I don’t want you to get hurt, but there’ll be something.”

        “One of us will be with you as much as we can.”

        Something inside Darcy shattered at the promises they made. She sobbed into their shoulders that night, and many nights after, but she never worried about being left behind again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Darcy, you are shit at keeping secrets.
> 
> Come bug me for updates on Tumblr: http://notarealnerd.tumblr.com/


	6. HBAA (Happy Birthdays All Around)

        September came and went with the start of the draft and Steve’s fall classes. Both of her boys considered it an honor to serve. The cooler temperatures brought a raft of repair orders for heaters and windows. Darcy tried to explain that she didn’t know anything about fixing buildings, but she knew she was the only hope for some of the jobs. As often as she could, she offered trade or a discount instead of charging full price. Everyone had troubles with money, but most of the women could knit or sew something for her. She had a full wardrobe by the time October rolled around, including a new hat and scarf from Alice and Sharon. They were inseparable friends who folded Darcy into their midst whenever she needed a break from the boys. Steve took her out dancing twice more, and to the pictures once, but she still wasn’t sure if her liked her back. It was a mystery to her how he had never dated anyone before. Even when she didn’t know he was going to be Captain America he was still a cute blond guy. What the hell, ladies of the past?

 

September 1, 1940

> _ Jane O Jane, _
> 
> _          Draft was declared. The US joins next year and Bucky leaves me when Japan attacks. I know Bucky and Steve both volunteer to go fight, and I believe that’s the right thing. They promised me that they wouldn’t leave me behind, no matter what. I don’t want to see them get hurt. Please Jane, bring me home before they leave. I can’t stand knowing when these things are going to happen. Don’t make me watch them die. _
> 
> _ Love _
> 
> _ Darcy _

 

September 20, 1940

> _ Dear Baby Sister, _
> 
> _         I found you a present. One of the kids down the block gave me a radio they found that was all busted up and told me that I could have it if I fixed that big one. So here, an antique radio- complete with Darcy upgrades. I’ve wrapped it and placed it next to Jane’s present. Mrs Greirson also gave me some of her hand dyed wool to make something “for the boys”, but since I can’t knit, have a present from Steve and Bucky. _
> 
> _ Love, _
> 
> _ Darce _
> 
> **_Happy Birthday! - S.R._ **
> 
> **Have a good one, kid - J.B.B.**

 

        October began with a swirl of leaves and yellow-gold that soaked the pages of Steve’s sketchbook. Darcy and Bucky danced together once in the kitchen, the sun making Darcy’s hair pick up glints of gold and red. Evenings in the kitchen listening to the Penfold People, mornings  making coffee, Sundays at church, Darcy sleeping, writing, eating, laughing, talking. The sad curve of her smile, like she knew that it couldn’t last. His art teachers praised the new life that his art had found in the warmth of his home, and he tore out pictures he couldn’t bear to share with anyone else. It was a slice of heaven.

         There were images he could never forget; the curve of her lips, the arch of her spine as she perched on the counter, the swirl of her favorite dress as she spun around the kitchen, the look in her eye as she started a fight. He knew the way her waist dipped in and her hips flared out like the back of his hand. He could draw her with his eyes closed. She didn’t dance with anybody but him or Bucky, turned down all the guys that asked her to the pictures, but still held something back. He wondered if it was something he was doing- or just that he wasn’t good enough.

 

October 5th, 1940

> _ Jane o’lantern _
> 
> _         Don’t tell me that wasn’t funny. I know you laughed. I miss the hell out of your snort-giggle and the lengths it took to make you pay attention to anything but science! Are you taking care of Baker? REMEMBER TO FEED HIM. Clint’s probably doing it. I know I say something every other letter, but Jane. You barely remember to feed yourself, let alone my puppy. _
> 
> _        Tell Clint that if he messes with my room, I’ll sic Baker on him. That puppy has ferocious depths, I’m telling you.  _
> 
> _        Sharon’s birthday is later this month. Steve and I have plans to go out for dinner and dancing with her, Bucky, and Alice. Speaking of Steve, he still hasn’t made a move. I mean, maybe he just sees me as a little sister still? I don’t like to dance with anyone else- and I’ve turned down all the boys who ask me to the pictures. Sharon, Bucky, Steve, and I have all gone for doubles, as Sharon calls it. After about two, Sharon gave up. She said that it was fun, but she was looking for something a bit more long-term. Alice and I think that she probably could bring Bucky up to scratch, but it wouldn’t be fun for either of them. Give Mels my love, _
> 
> _ Darcy _

  
  


October 26th, 1939

> _ DAD! _
> 
> _I FIGURED OUT THE ENERGY PROGRESSION PROBLEMS WITH THE ARC REACTOR. IT NEEDS A SUPERCONDUCTOR CORE THREAD NOT A VIBRANIUM ONE! VIBRANIUM WON’T REACT WELL TO THE NEW ELEMENT_ _  
> __TRY SILICONE/SILVER AMALGAM AT 270 KELVIN_
> 
> _ Love _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
> _ P.S. I’ve attached calculations and blueprints _
> 
>  
> 
> _ Janey, _
> 
> _         Tonight we’re going to dance and make merry. (I can’t remember where that quote was from...) I got Sharon a watch from Alice and I and the boys. I’m wearing that dress Steve got me and my new shoes. Alice is calling, so I better run. _
> 
> _ Darcy _

 

        “DARCY!” Alice yelled

        “HOLD YOUR HORSES, I’M COMING.” Darcy yelled back

        She stepped out of the bathroom to where the group of friends was waiting. Steve sucked in a breath. Every time he saw her in that dress he forgot to breathe. Her hair was up and back and her lips were cherry red. Against the black of her dress, her skin was pale and creamy. He held out an arm for her to take and she slid over to stand at his side. “Are we ready to go?”

         The dance hall was dim and smoky, loud from the band playing over the people who were talking. Bucky led the way to a corner booth and went to grab some drinks for the ladies. By the time he got back, Alice and Sharon had both found partners for dancing, and Steve had tucked himself into the corner. Darcy slid up beside him as Bucky wandered off to find a dance partner.

        “If you want to go dance-”

        “Not without you! I’m fine here. Tell me about your classes.”

 

        It was almost midnight before Steve and Darcy remembered that they had come with other people. It was one am before they thought to head home. Darcy insisted that they have one dance before they left. “Come on, Steve. Just one, I promise.”

        “Alright. Just one, then we go home. Bucky’ll get the girls home.”

        The band played a slow song and Steve and Darcy swayed and swirled in time to the music. Steve struggled to breathe in the smoke and heat, looking at Darcy in shock. She leaned her head against his shoulder and swayed with him. The song wound to a close and he tried to take a deep breath, wheezing in and almost choking on the tightness in his chest.

        “Steve! Are you having an asthma attack?”

        He winced. “Darce-”

        “You should have told me! Grab your coat, we’re getting out of here.”

        “You wanted one dance.”

        “One dance is not worth your life you idiot!”

        Darcy dragged him to the edge of the dance floor and hurried back to their table, where Bucky was flirting with a girl. She told him something and he looked at Steve and winked. Darcy grabbed his coat and grabbed Steve’s hand, shoving his coat at him. They made it halfway home before Steve started to feel dizzy and lose consciousness. “Darcy” he gasped.

        She looked over at him. “Shit! Give me your arm, we can make it.” WIth Darcy supporting half his weight, they made it to the apartment just as he started to blackout. “Steve!” Darcy shouted. “Fuck it. Here, take as deep a breath as you can.” She held something to his mouth and he felt a rush of powder or something. He passed out.

  
  


         When he came to, he was stretched out on the sofa with Darcy’s blanket over him. He looked over at his mother’s chair, where Darcy was sitting with her head tipped back, snoring softly. The blanket slipped from his shoulders as he pushed himself up. Just then, a clock chimed eight and Bucky burst into the room, groceries in hand. “Punk! How are you feeling? What’re you two doing in the living room?”

        “I had an attack last night. Darcy helped me home.”

        “Damn. I thought you were leaving because-”

        “Steve!” Darcy sat up and leaned forward. “How do you feel?”

        “Pretty great. I thought I was a goner for sure. What did you give me?”

        “In the future, there’s an inhaler for asthma. I have one because of my panic. I was trying to just let things happen as they would if I wasn’t here, but I won’t lose you to this.”

        Bucky and Steve looked at each other. “Breakfast?” 

  
  


> _ October 31, 1940 _
> 
> _ Jane  _
> 
> _          It looks like Halloween isn’t celebrated in 1940 as much as it was at home. I wanted to dress Baker up as Count Dracula. Would you do it for me? I know you’re not in New Mexico after November, so I hope you take my dad up on his offer of work. That would mean you live in Stark tower in New York! I hope you like Melody and the rest of my family. Mom would have loved you. Gran and Granpa Lewis are in New York to, if you get the chance to tell them that I’m missing, but alright. Maybe just tell them I’m traveling? Like on business or something. _
> 
> _         Don’t forget to pack my room with the rest of your things. DO NOT PACK IT WITH THE LAB STUFF. I will be so mad. I’m looking forward to thanksgiving with the boys. I think Bucky’s sister Rebecca is coming in with her husband and their little boy to spend the night and have dinner. I am so looking forward to meeting the girl who saved my butt with that skirt back in June. She might spend Christmas with us, or we might go out to them. They live in Jersey.  _
> 
> _         I miss you so much, I keep thinking that you would love both of my boys. When you get me back, we’ll do thanksgiving ourselves. I’m thinking ham and pie and the whole nine yards.  _
> 
> _ Love _
> 
> _ Darcy _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> NEVER EVER SHARE MEDICATION. EVER.  
> What Darcy does here is really bad, and I don't want anyone to share medications because of me. IT IS A BAD IDEA. Don't do it. The person who is having difficulties should have their own medication.
> 
> This chapter fought me tooth and nail. I might have another chapter you Sunday, but it looks tight. I'm celebrating my dad's 50th all weekend, so life is hectic.


	7. TTBTF (Things To Be Thankful For)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Are you ready to cry? Then squeal about small children? Then scream because of these two idiots?

November 5th, 1940

> _ Dear Jane, _
> 
> _         Today was election day. I think Steve’s a little upset that I couldn’t vote, what with not having any identity in this time. It would be more of a problem, but most of the people who pay me pay in cash, and those who pay in check make it out to Steve or Bucky. Come tax season, I guess we’ll have a little more trouble. I knew that FDR won this election, but I refused to tell the boys until after they had voted. Girl’s gotta keep some secrets, after all! _
> 
> _        Tell me you’re getting me back. I think I might go gray at this rate. In neighborhood news, the apartment block had the heaters go out yesterday evening. Unfortunately, someone reported it before I could just fix it, damn them. So now I have to wait until the repair person comes to fix it. _
> 
> _        Money keeps getting better, although I’m not looking forward to Bucky’s leaving. I keep praying that things turn out better than history says they will. _
> 
> _ Love _
> 
> _ Darcy _

  
  


November 11th, 1940

> _ Janey _
> 
> _         I’m not sure I can make it through today. Just bring me back. I have to lose them either way, don’t I? _
> 
> _         Make it easy. Please let me remember them like this, happy and whole. I can’t. Just- Please _
> 
> _ Darcy _

  
  


        The eleventh was a hard day for Steve. His father and mother were both gone now, and his feet always led him to the graveyard on the anniversary of the end of the war. That day he had brought his sketchbook and stood there with his head bowed.

        “Hello mom, dad. I know it’s been awhile since I last visited.So much has happened, I almost don’t know where to start. There’s this dame from the future living with us, and we’ve got a lot more money to spend these days, thanks to her. Her name’s Darcy, she’s real swell. Her ‘n Buck get into more trouble than we ever did when you were alive. I wish you could have met her. I miss you so much it hurts, mom. I’m trying to be good.” Rain started to pour down and he hunched over his sketchbook miserably. “I was going to show you some of my new drawings, but it’s too wet for that.” 

 

         Darcy wasn’t sure how long Steve had stood there, miserable and cold in the pouring rain. She walked over to his side and stood with him, holding the umbrella over both of their heads. 

        “I wish you coulda met her. She would have loved you.”

        “Oh Steve. I wish I could have met her too. I brought roses from our windowsill, here.” She passed him the small bunch of roses she held in her hand. He placed them gently on his mother’s grave. “I- Let’s go home.”

        “Okay.”

 

        Darcy wound her arm through his. He squeezed it close to him and swallowed back the last of his tears. Her hand squeezed his upper arm back and he smiled at him with tears in her eyes. “I lost my mother ten years ago when I left. Longer now for me. She died- dies- in the largest attack on American soil to date. Well- to date then. I- I had my dad and grandparents, and my baby sister was only four. It- it still hurts. I wish you could have met her too. I wish you could have met all of them. I can’t-” She took a shuddering breath, “I can’t believe you won’t ever get the chance. It’s not fair. It’s never fair.” Her tears spilled down her cheeks. She dropped the umbrella. They stopped dead in the street and Steve pulled Darcy into a tight hug. Standing there in the rain, they cried for the future that they would never have and the people they had lost and would never meet. They stumbled home to an expectant Bucky, who was ready with bowls full of hot soup. 

 

         Thanksgiving day dawned bright and early, with Steve and Bucky chugging coffee before rushing to meet Rebecca and her family at the train station. Darcy watched them leave sleepily as she sipped her coffee and wrote out her list of things to buy from the grocer and butcher. It wasn’t a long list, just the chicken, and things for the pumpkin pie. They were lucky, considering not everyone could afford to have food on the table. It was hard to be grateful when she could be back home with her family and eating ham and trying to teach her dad how to cook a pie for the fourth year in a row. Trying to explain what the food looked like to her sister, who always asked. Watching Pepper relax as the evening wore on, her grandparents spoiling her sister and teasing her dad for not marrying Pep. JARVIS keeping a watchful eye on the kitchen and her family. A tear splattered on her list and she breathed deeply, willing herself to keep a stiff upper lip. 

        The walk was clear and crisp, leaves crunching underfoot and the sky a deep and beautiful blue. She got a discount from the grocer for fixing his freezer the past week, and an extra big chicken from the butcher for promising to take a look at his heater in the near future. The young boys hanging around the corner traded carrying her bags for looking at their radio in the future. She was training a couple of them to fix things up, in case Jane took her soon. As she mixed up the pastry, she thought hard about what she knew about the future. She wrapped the ball of pastry in a clean tea towel and almost dropped to as she came to a realization. 

  
  


November 21st, 1940

> _ Janey-Jane, _
> 
> _         You don’t get me back until after Steve joins the war, do you? If Aunt Peggy knew enough to teach me everything, I must meet her. The only way I could do that is if I meet her when Steve makes it in. Fucking hell. How long is that? Another two years? _
> 
> _         I guess I can stop worrying about making plans for the future. Keep telling everyone I love them and feeding Baker. When Clint comes to check up on us, tell him. Make him promise to keep it a secret from the MiB, but someone should know about it.  _
> 
> _         I miss you Jane. I’m going to keep missing you until you get me back. I think you would have fit right into Thanksgiving with my family. You would adore my sister and Pepper.   _
> 
> _ Love, _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
>  

        Darcy heard them coming long before the boys made it up the stairs. She grinned and went to unlock the door, opening it the the surprised faces of Bucky and Steve. “You are so loud! I heard you coming up the stairs from the kitchen!” She stood aside to let the group through. “Are you going to introduce me?”

        “Sure. Darcy, this is Rebecca and her husband Eric. This little man is Jack. Becky, this is Darcy, who we were telling you about on the way over.”

        “Only good things, I hope!”

        “I don’t know, I heard you were as much trouble as Steve here...”

        “Oh thank goodness. I thought I was going to be compared to Bucky!”

        “I would never listen to that. That’s far too harsh for someone I just met!” The two girls looked at each other and burst out laughing. Darcy slung her arm around Rebecca’s waist in a side hug. “I think we’re going to get on fantastically!”

        The boys traded looks of horror. Steve cleared his throat, “So what do we have planned for today?”

        “Rebecca and I are going to visit our parents once everyone’s settled,” Bucky said. “Anything else?”

        “I brought mom’s veg casserole- it needs to go in the oven a couple hours.”

        “I need to finish the pumpkin pie. I just got it rolled out when you arrived.” Darcy and Rebecca talked over each other and traded grins. Eric rolled his eyes and set Jack down on the floor. “Why don’t you get Uncle Steve to show you some of his drawings?”

        The young boy looked between his papa and Uncle Steve. “ Papa, gehst du weg?” (are you leaving?)

        “Nein, Bärchen. Ich werde Onkel Bucky zu sprechen. Mama wird in der Küche mit Tante Darcy sein. Sprechen Sie Englisch mit Onkel Steve, nicht wahr?” (No, bear. I am going to talk to Uncle Bucky. Mama will be in the kitchen with Auntie Darcy. Speak English with Uncle Steve, yes?)

        “Yes papa. Onkel Steve, do you have coloring?”

        “Of course, Jack! Do you want to color or see my art?”

        “Both, bitte?”

        “Sure!”

 

        “So, Darcy. I heard the boys adopted you after your things were stolen on the train.”

        “Yes! Steve found me in an alley, clutching my purse, dizzy, and trying not to be sick. He brought me home and I’ve lived here ever since.”

        “I have to ask, what are your intentions toward my brothers?”

        “Bucky has been just like an older brother to me! I’m real grateful to him and Steve for taking me in.”

        “And Steve?”

        Darcy blushed. “I don’t think he’s interested in me.”

        Rebecca laughed, “Oh Darcy. That man hasn’t had a girl be really truly interested in him in all the time I’ve know him. I wouldn’t be surprised if he liked you back.”

        “I don’t want to rush into something that might hurt him- or me.”

        “Oh, I’ll leave it be for now. There’s not much I can do in the country anyway. How long do you put the pie in the oven for?”

        “About forty-five minutes. When are you and Bucky heading out?”

        “We’ll go when the pie comes out of the oven.”

        Darcy took a seat at the kitchen table. “Why don’t you tell me some stories about Steve and Bucky while they were young? I have to turn the oven down in fifteen minutes.”

        Rebecca took a seat across from her and launched into a story about when they were young and Steve had decided the walls of the school weren’t nice enough. Darcy laughed until tears came out of her eyes. The mural had been completed on a weekend and no one ever figured out who had done it. Apparently, it was still there. The timer went off as Rebecca finished her story and Darcy turned to oven down. “There. Now we can join the boys.”

 

        Steve was sprawled across the floor with Jack. The six-year-old was flipping through the  pages of his sketchbook (with the adult pages removed) and pointing to people as he flipped. “ Wer ist das?”

        “English, Bärchen”

        “Who?”

        “My friend Alice.” “Susan.” “John” “Will” “Darcy.” Jack looked up and pointed to the kitchen. “Tante Darcy?” 

        “Yes! Auntie Darcy.” 

        “What about Auntie Darcy?” She said, folding down to the ground gracefully and leaning over the drawing. “Oh! That’s lovely Steve!”

        “Wir Farbe jetzt?”

        “English, baby.” Rebecca sat on the couch in between her husband and brother.

        “We color now?”

        “Yes, here.” Steve passed Jack a pencil and the pack of crayons. “Draw on the paper only.”

        “Tante Darcy color?”

        “Sure! Do you want me to draw something?”

        “Zeichne mich! Und ein Welpe und ein Kätzchen ! Und du und Onkel Steve!”

        “Jakob. English, bitte.”

        “It’s alright, I understand German. Alle im gleichen Bild?”

        “Ja!”

        Darcy and Jack put their heads down and started coloring on sheets torn from Steve’s sketchbook. Steve sat up and started to capture the picture in front of him. Darcy’s hair half covered her face and Jack was turned toward her on his stomach with his legs in the air. With their similar coloring, they could be mother and son. His heart skipped a beat.

        The group on the couch was having a conversation about the war and its effect on the economy. Steve listened with half an ear, but didn’t worry when the conversation slid out of his hearing range. The drawing quickly absorbed his attention and he lost track of time and his surroundings, noticing only his subjects and the paper in front of him. He focused in again when Darcy turned to the couch and said loudly “Der Führer ist ein Verrückter! Er wird vor nichts zurückschrecken, bis die Welt durch den Krieg auseinander gerissen wird! Ich stehe Amerika zu diesem Thema. Freiheit für alle Rassen und Religionen ist lebenswichtig!”

        “Darcy, what-”

        “I said that Hitler is insane and he needs to be stopped.”

        “I lost the tread of the conversation.”

        “Papa, was macht Verrückter Mann?”

        “Es bedeutet, dass er krank im Kopf ist.”

        “Eric! You mustn’t say that.”

        “He needs to learn these things, liebling. Darcy is right.”

        Steve leaned over to Darcy, “What did he ask?”

        “What insane meant. Eric told him it meant sick in the head.” Darcy was flushed bright red and staring intently down at her drawing. “At least I didn’t swear,” She muttered. 

        “That’s real impressive, for you.”

        She scoffed and pushed him gently. The timer she had put beside her went off and she clambered to her feet, ungracefully holding her dress around her knees. The smell of pie filled the apartment as she opened the oven and place the pie on a cooling rack. Rebecca looked at Eric.

       “Bucky und ich werden meine Eltern Gräber zu sehen. Können Sie Jack beobachten, bis wir zurückkommen? Ich denke, wir werden in etwa zwei Stunden wieder.”   
       “Ja”   
       “Danke, Schatz. Bucky, bist du bereit zu gehen?”

       “Ja. We’ll be back in about two hours Steve.”

 

       Darcy loved spending time with kids. It came from having a million cousins on her mom’s side, plus her little sister, who was six years younger than her. Jack was well behaved, even if he did speak German when he had been asked to speak English. Steve was looking at her with stars in his eyes. She asked Jack if he wanted to play a game. He nodded, wide-eyed. She grinned and pulled him into her lap. “Steve, will you play pattycake with us?”

       Steve settled himself across from them, “Yes, but who am I playing with?”

       “Jack, ich werde den Händen halten zu zeigen, wie zu spielen, ist das in Ordnung?” (Jack, I'm going to hold your hands to show you how to play, is that okay?)   
       “Ja”   
       “Wir sagen, die Worte in Englisch, dann schlagen wir die Hände wie diese.” (We say the words in English, then we hit hands like this.) She held Jack’s hands by the wrist and tapped his left hand against Steve’s. “Dann klatschen wir wieder treffen. Ja! Genau so!” (Then we clap and hit hands again. Yes! Just like that!) She looked up at Steve, “Ready?”

       “Always.”

       The game of pattycake kept Jack interested for a good half hour. Darcy had to stop to provide translations during the first round, but Jack quickly caught on. When Steve noticed the kid was getting bored, he stopped the game. “Jack, do you want to choose what we play next?”

        “Ja! Papa play koffer packen with us! We play in English with Onkel Steve!”

        “What is koffer packen?”

        “I tell in German?” He twisted around to look at Darcy. She nodded. “Jemand nimmt etwas in einem Koffer zu setzen und der nächste sagt, dass die Sache und eine andere Sache in den Koffer zu setzen. Die erste zu verpassen ist raus! Dann beginnen wir wieder, bis nur noch einer übrig ist.”

         “Someone picks something to put in a suitcase and the next person says that thing and another thing to put in the suitcase. The first one to miss is out. Then we start again, until there's only one person left.”

         “That sounds like fun! Do you want to start?”

         Jack nodded enthusiastically. “In my Koffer I put pajamas.”

         Darcy grinned. “In my Koffer I put pajamas and underpants.” Jack giggled.

         “In my Koffer I put pajamas, underpants, and socks.” Steve turned bright red.

         Eric sat down between Steve and Darcy. “In my Koffer I put pajamas, underpants, socks, and a shirt.”

         They managed three rounds before Eric missed underpants. Jack started again with a coat and they got to five rounds before Steve missed gloves. Darcy and Jack made it for ten rounds before Darcy missed the hat. “I won!”

         “You did!” Darcy snuggled him close and he giggled. “You get to choose what we do next. Do you want to hear a story, colour, or play another game?”

         “I hear story? Tante Darcy tell?”

         “Sure! Do you want to hear about the first time I made a pie?”

         “Ja!”

         “When I was ten years old, I lived with my Oma and Opa. My Oma decided that I needed to know how to cook all the dishes that she had grown up with, so we started with apple pie. We made the crust and let it chill. Then my Oma set the oven to be hot. I helped her roll out the pie crust and mix the apples, and stole so many apples I got sent to my room! Opa came home that night and sat down at the table for dinner. ‘Maus ou ist?’ he asked my Oma. Oma told him that I had been very bad and stole apples. ‘Ich werde mit ihr reden.’ 

         “‘Maus? Ich komme in Ihr Zimmer. Sind Sie bereit?’ I was curled under my covers playing with my dolls. Opa pulled my covers down. He asked me if I knew why I had been sent to my room. I told him it was because I took the apples. He said it was because there were less apples in the pie, and apples were always better in the pie.

         “I came downstairs after that and Oma and Opa and I sat down to dinner. After dinner, Oma brought out the pie and Opa looked at me and said ‘Maus, weil Sie bereits Ihre Äpfel hatten bekommt man keine Torte.’” She turned to Steve “He said, ‘because you already ate your apples, you don’t get any pie.’

         “I was really upset and stormed off crying. But my Opa was right, I had already had my apples. And apples are always better in pie.”

         Steve looked at her, head tilted. “I didn’t know you were German.”

         “My grandparents are. My mom and I spoke German, but my Dad spoke English.”

 

         Rebecca and Bucky arrived in a flurry of coats and hats. Bucky was practically vibrating in excitement. “Tell them Becky!”

         Rebecca blushed. “I’m pregnant. Steve, will you be godfather?”

         “Yes! Congratulations!”

 

        The evening devolved into a happy haze of food, laughter, and joy. Steve looked like he had swallowed the sun. Bucky was beaming at everyone, and Rebecca kept blushing. Jack was so excited to be with his family and Onkels Steve and Bucky. And his new Tante Darcy was helping with his food whenever he asked. Darcy looked around the table at her newfound family, and swallowed a lump in her throat. She had never been so grateful to have been dropped into the middle of these people.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am so sorry this took so long to post! My fish died in the middle of Steve's visit to his parent's graves, so it took me a while to be ready to go back to this. Then Darcy and Steve wanted to cry some more. Then I finally got to the parts I wanted to write.  
> Next up, Christmas/Hanukkah!  
> Translations:  
> "Draw me ! And a puppy and a kitten! And you and Uncle Steve!"  
> "All in the same picture?" 
> 
> "The leader is a madman! He will stop at nothing until the world is torn apart by the war! I am with America on this issue. Freedom for all races and religions is essential!"  
> "Papa, what does madman mean?"  
> "It means he is sick in the head."
> 
> "Bucky and I are going to visit our parent's graves. Will you watch Jack while we're gone? We should be back in two hours."  
> "Yes."  
> "Thank you sweetheart. Bucky, are you ready to go?"
> 
> Darcy's story: 'Where is Mouse?' 'I'll go talk to her.' 'Mouse? I'm coming into your room. Are you ready?'


	8. CCBBS (Christmas Can Be BitterSweet)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas in July!

 

 

> December 3rd, 1940
> 
> _Jane,_
> 
> _I still miss you. Even though it’s getting easier to accept that I’m here for at least the next two years, I still haven’t said anything to the boys. This is such a fucking mess. What on earth did I do to deserve this shit show?_
> 
> _I hope you can spend Christmas with your family this year. Your mom is probably still waiting for your reply to that postcard from Venice. If you don’t want to track down either of your parents, spend it with my family. My grandparents celebrate Christmas. Or if you’re in the Tower post-construction, dad and Melody do Hanukkah. I’m not sure what the Norse do for mid-winter, but I hope you and Thor can convince my dad to throw a feast. That would be bitchin’._
> 
> _I know that you and Baker are probably doing fine, but I worry a little still. I don’t even know how long I’ll be gone for your time. Hours? Days? Months?_
> 
> _Years for me could be a couple hours for you. That’d be weird._
> 
> _Love_
> 
> _Darcy_

 

 

 

> December 12th, 1940
> 
> _Jane the Janey-est_
> 
> _I REALLY wish I was back in New Mexico. Or Malibu. I don’t remember winters upstate at my grandparent’s being this cold. I guess the farmhouse was well heated, but it’s like 30 degrees outside right now, and the windows are leaking like a sieve. Steve keeps coughing, and I’m real worried that he’s going to catch pneumonia. I hold on to the promise that he makes it to the war._
> 
> _No amount of knowledge from the future helps when_ _the love of your_ _he’s wheezing and coughing up a lung. I wish I had access to the healthcare system. Or Dr.Sanders, my family doctor. Who hasn’t been born yet, fuck._
> 
> _Sometimes it just hits me that I’m now older than anyone I knew. If I turn 21 in January, I was born in 1920._
> 
> _My last birthday was my 91st_
> 
> _Love_
> 
> _Your_ _Nonagenarian,_
> 
> _Darcy_

 

 

 

> December 22nd, 1940
> 
> _Jane, Holy Shit!_
> 
> _Rebecca and her husband just changed their name to Lewis._
> 
> _LEWIS_
> 
> _My Opa’s name is Jakob Matthias Lewis. Jack for short. The name of the kid I babysat on thanksgiving? Jakob Matthias Ludwig- now Lewis. His birthday? April 5th, 1934. I babysat my Opa when he was six._
> 
> _I’m about to be my Tante Eva’s godmother. SHE’S MY GREAT AUNT!_
> 
> _BUCKY IS MY GREAT GREAT UNCLE_ _  
> _ _HOLY SHIT_
> 
> _Darcy_

 

         December 24th dawned bright and cold over a smokey city. Steve slipped out early to sell papers at the corner of 4th and Atlantic. He had traded shifts with one of the Jewish fellas, who was more than happy to have a late shift the day before Hanukkah. He had decided to give Darcy the best Christmas ever, even though they couldn’t go out to see Rebecca and Eric.

         She was out when he got home, on a repair job she had mentioned as taking the whole day. Bucky was on his way home too, having switched with Jon for a shift on New Years day. Between the two of them, him and Bucky had spun Darcy’s sob story to half the block, gathering up enough Christmas decorations that it felt like a treasure trove.

         Tinsel, paper chains from the kids down the block, and cranberry chains from the ladies at church were strung across the tops of the windows. Candles decorated the top of the stove, and their stockings were hung from the stove door. Sharon and Alice had worked together to make Darcy a quilted stocking that was an early Christmas present. He grinned, thinking of the way Darcy had managed to get half the neighbors practically eating out of her hand. She had fixed the city up from Fourth to the docks, making friends the whole way.

        Bucky whistled long and low. “Damn, punk. Did you put all this up yourself?”

        “I just want her to have the best Christmas ever. I know it’s probably nothing compared to what she had back home, but I want to try anyhow.”

        “If anyone can do it, it’s us.”

 

        Darcy finished up with the basement heater of the Corona Building on Atlantic at four. Her walk took a half hour, and the sun was just finished setting as she let herself into the lobby of the apartment. Her boys were waiting at the bottom of the stairs for her. “Guys! What are you doing down here?”

        “Can’t a fella wait for his favorite cousin on Christmas eve?”

        “Oh, Angel-face. I’m sure any other fella could, and I’d not feel a lick of suspicion. You, on the other hand.” She shook her head. “What’s going on Steve?”

        Steve gave her the look that worked on their landlord, eyes wide and innocent baby-blue. “Why would there be anything goin’ on, Darce?”

        She shook her head again, grinning. “I’m on to you Mr Rogers. You too, Mr Barnes.” She tucked her hand into the crook of Steve’s elbow. “Onwards and upwards, boys!”

 

        Steve watched Darcy nervously as she fit her key into the lock and opened the door. He wanted to be able to remember everything about their time together- how ever long he might have. Her purse dropped to the floor. She clapped both hands to her mouth, smudging her lipstick. Her eyes glistened with tears. “How- When- What- How?”

        “Do you like it?”

        “Steve!” She whispered, “I love it.” She buried her head in his shoulder and hugged him so hard he could hardly breathe. When she let him go he was tomato red. “I’m glad you like it.”

         “What am I, doll? Chopped liver?”

         She laughed and gave Bucky a hug too. A much shorter hug, Steve noticed. “Where did you get these decorations? Are those paper chains? Where did you find the time?”

         “The boys down the street helped us. They were eager to help when we told them it was for you. The rest were donations from people in the neighborhood. We all want you to have the best Christmas ever.”

         “I haven’t had Christmas since my mom died.”

         “But your grandparents-”

         “Dad and I spent the holidays together. We’re Jewish.”

         “Oh.” Bucky and Steve looked at each other. “I didn’t think to-”

         “Why didn’t you say anything when we were going to church doll?”

         “I didn’t think it mattered.” She shrugged, “I like the sermons most of the time. It’s a real nice place, and dad and I weren’t really into religion. Mom was Catholic and so were Oma and Opa, but I really identified more with Judaism after my mom died. I guess I just think that god is God, no matter where I worship.” She scooped up her purse from where it had fallen. “That got heavy real fast. This is amazing, guys. Do you have plans for dinner?”

        “I picked up a couple of slices of roast from the diner down the street, and there are potatoes on the stove. Good enough?”

 

 

 

> December 25th, 1940
> 
> _Merry Christmas Jane._
> 
> _I’ve been here for six and a half months now. It’s one year until we lose Bucky, then only five months until Steve goes to war. How will I survive?_
> 
> _We stayed home for Christmas in the end. I’m kind of disappointed, I really like Rebecca and her family. I’ve become friends with my great-grandmother and her family. This is beyond weird._
> 
> _Your present is on the shelf with the others. I can’t help but wonder if we’re going at the same rate. Has it been six months for you? Do you miss me? Just kidding, of course you do. If you get the chance, give Clint the penny whistle to annoy Natasha with. Tell Melody to take cover before you do, I don’t want anything to get between Clint and his comeuppance._
> 
> _Yesterday we went to midnight mass at the Church. I’m nominally Jewish- Hanukkah started today- but the mass was beautiful. The boys and I dressed up, and the pageant was adorable. Father Paul had a sermon about new beginnings and how god accepts us for who we could be._
> 
> _I was up at 8am this morning, and I made pancakes and we had coffee. We sat around the stove, opening our stockings and presents. The boys decorated the apartment real nice for me. Steve, Sharon, Bucky, Alice, Alice’s new fella Jon, and I all went down to the Rockefeller Center to see the tree. It wasn’t as nice as the one in 2010, but Sharon lent me her skates and Steve and I managed two rounds before the cold got too much for him. I won’t miss the asthma when it’s gone- but I like being the same height. There’s less pressure to wear heels. You know how bad I am in heels._
> 
> _I hope you get me back eventually Jane. I know it’s another year and a half before I could possibly be back to you and my family, but there is no way that I want to be here without Steve and Bucky. I would go crazy._
> 
> _Love,_
> 
> _Darcy_
> 
>  

        Steve couldn’t remember a better Christmas. It was hard to imagine a life without Darcy brightening the apartment and teasing Bucky. Breakfasts and suppers would never be the same. Midnight mass at the Church was about new beginnings and trying to become who God believed we could be. It made Steve think about what him and Darcy could be, if one of them only said something. Unfortunately, mistletoe was too expensive that close to Christmas day. He awoke to the radio on full blast and a smell of coffee from the kitchen. “Hey Buck. Buck. Bucky.”

        Bucky rolled over and buried his head in his pillow. “James! It’s Christmas and we’ve got Darcy. Wake up you jerk.”

        “You got Darce.” He mumbled back from under his pillow.

        Just then, Darcy pounded on the door and shouted through, “Boys! Merry Christmas!”

        “Yeah, you got Darcy, and I got my bed.”

        Steve snorted and threw back the covers. “You know she won’t let that stand longer than a hot second. Save yourself, and just get out there.”

        “I bet if you manned up and kissed her she wouldn’t bother me.”

 

        Presents were piled up in front of the stove, stockings filled to bursting and hung from the oven door. Darcy’s pancakes were delicious and filling, and the cheap coffee warmed them from the inside out.

        “Rock paper scissors for who goes first?”

        “Youngest first doll. Since ya haven’t told us how old you are, you go last.”

        “Buck! Didn’t your ma ever tell you it’s rude to ask a lady her age?” Steve said, fake scandalized.

        “She ain’t like no lady _I_ ever saw.”

        Darcy snorted. “I’m twenty. I turn twenty-one in January. Thanks for defending my virtue there Stevie, but I really want to go first.”

        “Well, what are you waiting for Darce?”

        “Nothing.” She flashed a cheeky grin at him and slid to sit on the floor in front of the stove. “Care to join me?” She reached for the closest present and set it aside.

        “I’m enjoying the view from up here, doll. Have fun.”

        “This one’s from Bucky.” Steve said, sitting next to her and passing her a brown paper wrapped present. Bucky’s blocky writing said **To Spitfire, from Bucky and Rebecca.** Darcy ripped the paper off with gleeful abandon and tilted the box back and forth. “It’s gorgeous, Buck. Where’d you get it?”

        “It was our ma’s.”

        “Bucky!”

        “It’s not like it’s leaving the family, right doll?”

        Darcy’s eyes widened in shock. “Did- did you read my journal?” She whispered, sounding broken and betrayed.

        “What? No- I would never. I’m sorry, doll- I swear I never even opened your journal. When Becca told me that she had changed her name to Lewis, I thought something might be up. You look so shocked when I told you that they had done that, it seemed real obvious.”

        “Darcy? Are you alright?”

        “I just-” She took a couple deep breaths. “I need you to both promise you won’t _ever_ read my journal. There are things in there that I can’t tell anyone, not even you.”

        “I _swear_ spitfire. Cross my heart.”

        “I promise Darcy. Not even if you leave it open again.”

        Darcy let out the breath she had been holding and turned back to the beautifully carved wooden box. She opened it gently and gasped. The box was carefully placed on the ground, and with shaking hands she lifted the antique veil out of the box. “Is this. Is this the veil my great great grandmother wore?”

        “Yeah. And Becca too.”

        “But Tante Eva wore it when she got married.”

        “So leave it to her when you go back. Or give it to her yourself, “ Steve said. Darcy nodded and placed the veil gently back in the box. “Who’s next?” She asked.

        “I am. Can you pass me Bucky’s for me? It’s next to your elbow.”

        “Where- oh here.” She passed him a package that he ripped into eagerly.  He shook out a sweater that looked about ten sizes too big. He laughed. “Somehow I don’t think I’ll grow into this one Buck. Did Becca make this?”

        “I just sent her the yarn. She was the one to make it so big. I swear I’m innocent this time.”

        “This time, sure...”

        “I’m hurt that you would think that of me, your very best friend. Make it up to me by passing me the present you got me.” Steve gave a snort of laughter and passed him the present. Bucky carefully untied the string and pulled off the paper, flattening the drawing of the three of them and putting it aside. He separated the two framed pictures and looked at them. There was a long moment of quiet before he cleared his throat. “These-” he cleared his throat again “these are great Stevie. Where’d you get the photograph?”

        “Remember Sharon’s birthday? She snapped that of us on our way to the dance hall. I saw her and asked for a copy.”

        “And you drew the one of all of us together?”

        “Yeah, Becca asked before she left that day.”

        “Can I see?” She took the drawing that Bucky passed her and stared down at it in fascination. “This- this is the picture in the front hall of my grandparent’s house. I always used to ask who drew it and Opa made up as many answers as I had questions- Picasso, Da Vinci, anyone he could think of. By the time he told me it was Steve Rogers I didn’t believe him. I always wondered who the girl was. My Opa told me the names of everyone but her- no matter how many times I asked, he would always just say it was my Tante Eva’s godmother. I can’t believe there was a picture of us in the house I grew up in. Time travel makes my head hurt.”

        "Mine too doll. Mine too. Your turn. Open the one Steve got you."

        "Where is it?"

        "Here." Steve passed it over with a bit of a blush.

        She also took the paper off cautiously, careful not to damage the sketch of the three of them in the kitchen. "Steve- is this a photo album?" She flipped through it slowly. "There's all sorts of pictures of us and look at all these drawings! This is amazing! Thank you!" She tackle hugged him. Bucky laughed so hard he doubled over.

        "Do you really like it?"

        "Steve! Yes! Here, open the one I got for you." She passed him a small parcel and watched eagerly as he tore off the brown paper. The cracked open the box and pulled out the compass she had found at the pawn shop.

        “Darcy, this is gorgeous. How did you afford this?”

        “Don’t ask that, it’s Christmas. Call it a miracle.”

        Steve blushed and opened the compass. With a pang of disappointment he noticed the space for a picture was empty. Bucky snorted softly and let the silence stretch for a moment before he cleared his throat. “Got somethin’ for me, doll?”

        “Yeah! Here.” She shoved a small package into his hands. He ripped the paper off and opened the box.

        “Is this a knife?”

        “There’s a penny under it. Don’t worry.”

        Bucky handed the penny back to Darcy and flipped open the knife. It was the best Christmas any of them had ever had.


	9. TMO (Time Marches On)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome back to 1941! happy New Year and Happy New Chapter Day!  
> I think I'm back, more or less. I've fallen back in love with these characters, gotten rid of a bad relationship, and I'm looking to start the new year out right. Enjoy!  
> <3

> _ January  1, 1941 _
> 
> _ Happy Hangover Day Jane, _
> 
> _          Now I know that I’m not supposed to tell you what to do, but I swear to god if you’re not with my dad in the tower trying to figure out how to get me back home to you guys I am going to scream.  _
> 
> _ XOXO _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
> _ PS Thought I ought to mention I grew up with a picture of myself in the hall. The one Steve gave Bucky this Christmas. I have a headache. _
> 
>  
> 
> _ January 15, 1941 _
> 
> _ Janey _
> 
> _          Hey, you know I miss you, right? I keep writing to you even though I really have nothing more to say that you would want to hear. Life in the 40s is more than a bit boring as far as my research is concerned because I can’t bloody do anything. My soul for a good microchip. My kingdom for a strip of duct tape and a good soldering iron. Unless, of course you’ve developed a fascination with my soap opera with Mr Steve Rogers. Will he? Won’t he? He probably would, but ratings would go down. _
> 
> _ Cheers _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
>  
> 
> _ January 21, 1941 _
> 
> _ Dear Jane, _
> 
> _          I miss you a lot right now. It’s my birthday and I really just want to spend it with you and Mels and dad and Pep and my grandparents. My perfect birthday would be one that I got to spend with the boys too. In the future, can you imagine? Sometimes when I think that none of you will ever get to meet it breaks my heart. _
> 
> _          Happy thoughts. I am having a Very Good birthday. Bucky made bacon and eggs, and Steve managed to make coffee without setting fire to anything. I’m hopeful that Steve might make a move. I would ask him out, but I think it’s important to him to be the one to ask. Unless he doesn’t see me like that. He has definitely been checking me out, and the pictures in the album he gave me for Christmas are way romantic. _
> 
> _          Here’s hoping, _
> 
> _ Love, _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> _ Melody, _
> 
> _          I’m so sorry that I’ve been gone so long. I'll make it up to you when I get back, I promise. Big Sister Promise. _
> 
> _          Tell Cibereous that he is a good pup for me, and don’t forget to clean Dummy. There’s a box under my bed that I was saving to give to you today, something your mom left me to give to you. It’s a bit of a secret from dad, so you can’t tell him about it. _
> 
> _          The freedom couch is great if a bit lumpy. I think you and Bucky would get along fantastically,  _ _ so I hope _ _ it’s a shame you’ll never meet.  _
> 
> _ Love _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
>  
> 
> _ Dad, _
> 
> _          I miss you terribly. I know that you never would talk about Steve, even though he and Howard were great friends. I just think that you would like his sense of humour. I’m going to have to meet my grandfather eventually, I suppose.  _
> 
> _          Today is my twenty-first birthday. We planned to tell the world about me next month, didn’t we? I guess that’s going to change now that you’re Iron Man. _
> 
> _          I wish I could spend the day with you and Mels and Pep, just like always. We would have dinner with Oma and Opa, and we could finish the large reactor. What does Pepper think of the delayed plans? Are the plans delayed? Do we run through time at the same rate? _
> 
> _          I swore that I wouldn’t do this to myself. I said, don’t ask questions like that, you’ll drive yourself mad. I want to go home. _
> 
> _ Love _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
>   
>    
> 
> 
> _ February 15, 1941 _
> 
> _          JANE _
> 
> _          HOLY SHIT JANE _
> 
> _          I PROMISED MYSELF I WOULDN’T _
> 
> _          BUT I DID _
> 
> _          SORRY, I GUESS _
> 
> _          I’m in love with Steve. If that wasn’t obvious by now, I despair of your reading comprehension. Well, _
> 
> _          Um. _
> 
> _          Last night I very nearly debauched a national icon, before he was a national icon. I have no idea if Dad would be proud or not. Probably a little? _
> 
> _          He got me carnations and another rose plant. This one is full sized. I don’t know where I’ll put it. Oh my god. Okay. We went for dinner at a diner and a movie and as we walked home... _
> 
> _          Well... _
> 
> _          Oh Jane, I don’t know what to do. On the one hand, I’m head over heels for the guy, and on the other, Captain America doesn’t survive the war. Do I go for it? When do you get me back? At this rate I’m going to need to get another book. This one is almost full. I mean, between the notes for my thesis in the front and these letters to you in the back, I’m surprised I didn’t run out of room sooner. Tell Dr Ross something for me? I don’t know what, but she knows everything about my dad and she deserves to know something about what’s going on. Plus, this way she can understand why my thesis might suddenly gain new a new understanding of the mechanical components of the Vita-Ray machine and Dr Erskine’s formula. _
> 
> _          And understand why I know Steve so well. I never really looked at the history of Steve Rogers, only the medical and mechanical portions of the super-soldier program. If my grandfather had kept better notes, I would be in such a better place for my research I tell you what. I always used to wonder why it was that his lab assistant kept separate notes. Maybe, and not to go all crazy conspiracy ‘it was me the whole time’ on you, but maybe I was my grandfather’s lab assistant. _
> 
> _          Wasn’t there something in his notes about her getting married? I would check, but I can’t... You know because THEY HAVEN’T BEEN WRITTEN YET _
> 
> _          Okay, rambling about the nonsense that has been cycling through my brain helped. Now I just need to sort out what I should do from what I’m going to do, and we’ll all be gravy. _
> 
> _ Love  _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
> _ PS. He definitely kissed me, and he was very good at it. We may have made out on the couch for a while before Bucky banged on the wall of their room and told us to get a room or warn him next time. _
> 
> _ PPS. We definitely did have a room. He’s just sore because Meg Carlisle told him to get lost last week _
> 
>  
> 
> _ February 26, 1941 _
> 
> _ Jane _
> 
> _          Steve and Bucky went to mass without me today. We’ve been exploring my comfort levels with this whole ‘catholic’ thing, and honestly I am more or less okay with going to Sunday mass on the semi-regular, but I don’t- it’s Ash Wednesday today, which is the start of lent (when they pay penance for their sins in accordance with the forty days Jesus spent in the desert, I think? I was a bit confused, so) and I’m not going to be giving up anything in particular, but this house is a Catholic friendly house. So now I need to figure out how to get iron into Steve without meat on Fridays and going mostly pescatarian for more than a month. Help. _
> 
> _          Broccoli? Fresh food is getting harder and harder to afford, even with three jobs in the house. I don’t know what I’m going to do when rationing gets worse. I’m already trading things from neighbours like nobody’s business. _
> 
> _          Steve never seems to get any skinnier, but he’s already about ninety pounds soaking wet, so he doesn’t have anything to lose. _
> 
> _ Love _
> 
> _ Your slightly anxious  _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
>  
> 
> _ March 11, 1941 _
> 
> _ Jane _
> 
> _          Yesterday was Bucky’s birthday, and I got him a rifle. He gave me such a Look, I almost had to excuse myself to laugh, he looked so much like you when I do something that you told me not to.  He never actually TOLD me not to buy him a gun... Never even implied it heavily, really Jane. I promise. He tried to protest the cost, but it wasn’t even all that costly. I traded modifying the owner’s other rifle for the unmodified one. The poor sucker never even knew I was the one doing the mods, or what a treasure this gun is going to be when I’m done with it. _
> 
> _          It’s entirely possible I’m being a little bloodthirsty, but whatever gets my boys through this war. _
> 
> _ Love, _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
>  
> 
> _ March 23, 1941 _
> 
> _ Dad, _
> 
> _          Hey. I don’t know what’s going to happen now for me and Steve, but... well... I’m dating Captain America. I want to know what you would say. I want to hear you say it’s okay, that you’re fine with it, that you love me and all that gross emotional stuff. I want to sit on the couch in a pile with all of us as you work on your tablet and Melody knits and Pepper and I read and JARVIS plays a movie on the wall of the lab. I want to clean Dummy and You and Butterfingers, hear you yell at them for trying to ‘help’, fix Dummy’s rotator cuff that he always shakes askew. I want to bug Melody at her lab, tease her for being in public school, and listen to her complain about homework. I want to eat bad takeout with you and critique old sci-fi movies. I want to watch MST3K and laugh. I want to cook pancakes in the morning as you ‘boot up’ and try to keep up with Mel’s chatter. _
> 
> _          I want my stuff. My laptop with the old copy of Zoo Tycoon where I have all the Unicorns, and all the games I have on my desktop. I want my quilt from Oma, and the desk the Opa made me. I want to sit in mum’s old rocking chair and read. I want to spread my research all over the floor and hear you complain about tripping over papers. I want the house where I have all my old stuffed animals, and where I know how to sneak out at 3 am to go down to the beach and watch the stars. I want my life back. _
> 
> _          But what I want most of all is to show Steve those things, see what he thinks, have him drawing while I’m writing. Show him the new Disney movies and rewatch the old ones. Know what he thinks of you, and more importantly what you think of him. I’m mostly fine here, but dad... _
> 
> _          Dad, I want to go home. _
> 
> _ Your Baby Bot _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
>  
> 
> _ April 11, 1941 _
> 
> _ Jane, _
> 
> _          Thank God, quite literally. It’s the end of Lent. Why Catholics give up their fun during the most dull and dreary seasons of the year I will never know or understand. For appearance's sake I’m going to church with the boys, so there’s that. I want a good old-fashioned lazy Sunday with you for a change. You remember, when we would turn off the machines for the weekly calibration tests and just sit in silence for a couple hours? I would run the laundry and try to get you to clean the trailer, we would get slushies and finish up data entry, and then we would pick a stupid comic book movie from my library of movies and eat tacos from Aubry’s. Maybe we would have some box wine, and we would relax for a change. I really miss all that. I don’t miss how often you would try to tell me we didn’t have time, or it wasn’t important. Listen, Janey. You need to rest and recharge every of often. Too much science is not good for you. You already do it a minimum of sixteen hours a day. I’m having this argument on paper because you can’t respond and that means I’m right, right? _
> 
> _ Love you, _
> 
> _ Miss you, _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
>  
> 
> _ May 10, 1941 _
> 
> _ Jane _
> 
> _          Finally! Spring! And we planted that damn full-size climbing rose outside on the front south-east corner, with the blessing of our landlord.  It went nuts, so I hope it survives long enough for me to come back and get a cutting of it. You know, if you ever get me back to the future. Which is totally the next Sunday movie we’re watching. I’ve been working on a small Einstein-Rosen Bridge machine in my spare time, with parts from the junkyard and whatever broken pieces I take from job sites. There’s a couple of problems there, one, I can’t really tell Steve of Bucky what I’m up too, two, I don’t exactly remember what we did, how or why, and three, I don’t have the right parts. _
> 
> _          The other question is...  _
> 
> _          Do I want to come home? I miss you and my family, and given the choice between dying and going home, obviously I would go home. If the choice is between you guys and Steve and Bucky... _
> 
> _          I don’t know. I want both, almost equally. I want to be in the future with the boys and you guys. I’m putting it aside until further notice, so we’ll see what happens. _
> 
> _ Love, _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
>  
> 
> _ June 8, 1941 _
> 
> _ Jane, _
> 
> _          Things are ramping up here. Knowing that war is inevitable doesn’t really cut the tension I’m feeling about my brother and best guy going off to war. I’m starting to make plans and plans within plans about what I’m going to do when they go overseas. I think I need to talk to my grandfather. Probably before Bucky leaves, and I don’t know how I’m going to get in contact with him. I really really do not want to be hit on by my own grandfather. That’s not how I ever imagined our first meeting going. So. _
> 
> _          Before December, I have to figure out what I’m going to do about that. Also Peggy, but I have no idea how to contact her or what have you, so we’re going to leave that alone for now.  _
> 
> _          So _
> 
> _          Great. Good. Grand. I hate this. So so much do I hate trying to plan to be in the middle of WWII. _
> 
> _ Love, _
> 
> _ Darcy. _
> 
>  
> 
> _ July 5, 1941 _
> 
> _ Jane, _
> 
> _          Steve’s birthday was yesterday, and we had a grand time. He’s been moping around a bit recently since he got his second 4F. I want to tell him he gets in, bit I know I can’t interfere with that. Well, we had another block party, but I had to do mock-apple pie instead of anything with fresh fruit, so that was a bit sad. I got him a new sketchbook and Bucky got him a war bond, to make him feel a bit better about not being able to join.  _
> 
> _          He seems to be doing a bit better today, and...  _
> 
> _          Well... _
> 
> _          Listen, no details where my dad can see, but Bucky’s real present to Steve (and I) was that he moved the two cots in the bedroom together and found another for out in the living room. He curtained a part of it off and told us he was moving in there, “no ifs ands or buts, so you could just stop whatever you were going to say and take the smooching somewhere private, for the love of god.” _
> 
> _          So... _
> 
> _          Um, yeah. We share a bed now, and it’s. Well. I’ll tell you all about it when you get me back, okay? It is super duper awkward to write about having sex with Steve in a letter that might not even get read. So. _
> 
> _ Love, but no deets, _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
> _ PS. Apparently anatomy classes are very useful _
> 
> _ PPS. Don’t you dare tell anyone _
> 
>  
> 
> _ August 13, 1941 _
> 
> _ Jane _
> 
> _          Yesterday was the day that Congress extended the draft. I know that I’m alone with Steve for a while after December, so that’s going to be an adventure in 1940s protocol about my relationship with Steve. We may get engaged just to avoid scandal.  _
> 
> _          My father would never have had it. Scandal all the way for him.  _
> 
> _          So, I’m helping Bucky with his rifle training in preparation for the war... That was a very fun conversation. Aunt Peggy and the mathematics of war was an entire year of lessons, so he should get a good grounding in trig and trag before he goes to training. I found a place just out a little ways away where we can practice with the rifle I bought off of a friend of a friend. I spent a couple days cleaning it, refitting the loading mechanism, and giving it a few special mods. Now, Bucky and I are spending our spare time going over every piece and spare part and how to fix it on the fly. I’m going to give him every advantage I possibly can before he goes off. I’m also teaching him a bit of Krav Maga and Judo, two very different martial arts.  _
> 
> _          Steve and I are doing my morning Aikido exercises together, and nightly yoga. I hope we can get through this together, but if not I am going to send them away with the best possible non-military training I can. As for Steve and guns, I’m trying to find a sturdy pistol or handgun, something small that I can improve and teach him how to use.  _
> 
> _          Bucky just came in and mentioned that he has a friend up in Camp Leigh that would get him in to practice on the rifle range. I want to go too, but he says I probably won’t be allowed. Gender expectations are such bullshit. _
> 
> _ Grumpily yours, _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
>  
> 
> _ September 21 _
> 
> _ Jane _
> 
> _          Bless Dr Erskine, honestly. Steve got sick again, and his asthma is back worse than ever, and... I’m just trying real hard. We get there. We do. I know we do... Or at least he does, and honestly that’s what I’m having trouble with right now. I have new respect for what the serum did physically to him. It’s one thing to look at pictures and read reports on how often he got sick, and another to see and deal with the constant illnesses in person. And I love him, so there’s that too.  _
> 
> _          He’s about 200 pounds of spunk and righteous fury in a 90lb body. We were walking home from the pictures the other day, and he heard a scream from an alley and just took off in that direction. To be fair, I took off a half second behind him, and we got the girl away from the man in the alley, but Bucky says we’re twice the problem Steve ever was alone. I can at least fight! So there. _
> 
> _          For the cause of truth and justice, as the comics used to say. I hope he gets better soon. _
> 
> _          For now, I have to go try to talk to my grandfather about a war. _
> 
> _ Love, _
> 
> _ Darcy _
> 
>  


	10. FYSMS (Funny You Should Mention Stark)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again, all. I hope you enjoy this one!

_September 27, 1941_

 

The cab took her from Brooklyn to Uptown that afternoon, physically and mentally. Darcy shook her head carefully, as not to dislodge her pins. Every block took her closer and closer to being Darcy Stark. Her spine straightened and her shoulders tensed.

“890 Fifth Avenue, Miss Darcy. You sure this is where you wanna be? I heard this is Howard Stark’s place.”

“I’m sure. We’re family,” Darcy said, squaring her shoulders, “and I plan on reminding him of that.” She opened the cab door and dusted off her skirt as she stood. It was her nicest dress, sage green with a flared skirt and reasonably appropriate neckline. She leaned her head in the front passenger window, “Hey, I’m gonna grab my stuff out the trunk. And Jamie? As a favour, you mind not telling Stevie where I went? Just tell him I’m on a job. He probably won’t ask.”

“Sure thing Miss Darcy. Don’t you let Stark steal you away from Brooklyn, now. We need you more than he does.”

“Oh, I think he needs me an awful lot. I’ll be back in Brooklyn by suppertime, and I’ll see you in the garage the day after tomorrow.”

“Bye Miss Darcy. See you Monday.”

“Bye Jamie.” Darcy swung her overfull duffle bag from the trunk and heaved it onto one shoulder. The tall wrought iron gates of the New York Stark mansion stood before her like foreboding symbols of her past. Unfortunately, they were blocking the path to her future. Just went to show. God, even just standing here made her more dramatic. Time to face the music.

“YOU- YOU CAD! YOU MASHER! YOU COMPLETE BUFFOON!” A very high pitched female voice screeched from inside. A low masculine murmur responded. There was a loud wordless shriek, followed by a crash. Darcy sighed through her nose and knocked at the door. It was a long moment before the door was opened.

“I’m sorry I’m afraid Mr. Stark is unavailable at the moment-” A vase sailed over Edwin Jarvis’ head and crashed against the door.

“Mr. Jarvis? I’m Darcy Maria Lewis Stark. I need to talk to Howard. I have something he will want to see.”

“Ah... Miss Stark... If you would follow me.” Jarvis held out a hand to usher her into the mansion and gently lifted the duffle bag from her shoulder. She followed until he began to lead her to the small sitting room.

“Mr. Jarvis, if you don’t mind, I would much rather wait in the sunroom.”

“Of course Miss Stark. I will tell Mr. Stark where you are. He will join you when he is able.”

Darcy smiled at him and sat gracefully on one of the white wicker chairs, indicating the duffle bag was to be left beside her chair. As soon as he closed the door, she cleared the flowers off of the table and began to unpack her duffle onto the glass and marble table. First the gun she had modified for Bucky, then her phone and iPod side by side, her taser, a radio she had retrofitted for when her boys went to war, the schematics for the Einstein-Rosen Bridge Detector, and a small set of calculations for the large size arc reactor. She then pulled out her book and sat back to wait. The door opened once to admit Jarvis and the tea tray. He looked from the array of weapons to the young woman sitting comfortably with her ankles crossed reading a book on war strategies. She saw him bite back a smile. “I’m sorry Miss, I didn’t quite catch what your relationship was to Mr. Stark.”

“I assure you, Mr. Jarvis, I will tell you when I have told Mr. Stark. If he believes me.”

He nodded and poured her a cup of tea she could smell was an Assam Superb blend. She shook her head no for cream and sugar but accepted a slice of lemon. He then left her with the tea tray. She invested herself in her book and sipped at the tea, occasionally helping herself to a cake or other treat from the well-stocked tea service. Page after page turned in the sun-filled room, and the feminine shrieks and crashes died away to a still silence. Darcy calmly sipped her second cup of tea and continued reading.

“What do you mean there’s a woman in my sunroom? Do I have to do everything myself?” The door burst open, and there, slightly rumpled with a cut above one eye and a slap mark on one cheek, was Howard Stark. “Good God.”

“Holy shit, it’s just like looking into a super sleazy mirror.” Darcy set her book down on the table in front of her. “I never really wondered what I would look like as a guy, but there you are.”

“Jarvis, I’m going to need a moment with Miss...”

“Miss Stark.”

“Of course it is. Jarvis?”

“Yessir.” Jarvis left, shutting the door quietly behind him.

Howard looked her up and down. “Listen, I don’t know what my dad told you, but I am not giving any money to the family. I told him that when I left the shop.”

“I’m not really after your money. I have an apartment with some friends and I’m quite happy there. Mr. Stark, I am from the future. I have spent over a year trying to figure out how to explain this to you. In the future, you have a son, and your son has two daughters, and I am the eldest daughter. In short, I am your grandchild.” She took another sip of tea. “I accidentally fell through a hole in space-time, due to a lab incident. I wound up in Brooklyn June of 1940. I was born in January of 1990. I expect you don’t believe me. On the table are three articles from the future, two of my own designs, and two articles I modified from the current time. I also have a driver’s identification from the state of Florida in 2010. Feel free to look at the items I brought at your leisure, although I will be taking them with me when I leave.” Darcy held the teacup to her lips, but her hand shook so much it sloshed on to her dress. She set it down with a rattle. Howard pulled out a handkerchief and held it out without looking away from her face. He looked a little like he had been hit by a train. Darcy took the proffered handkerchief and dabbed at the tea that was trying to make its way down her cleavage.

“Good God,” Howard repeated, “you can understand how hard this is to believe, Miss... Stark, can’t you?”

“Actually, I go by Miss Lewis in most circles. The Stark name raises... awkward questions. Miss Darcy Maria Stark Lewis. And you can understand how hard this is to explain, can’t you, Mr. Stark?”

“Call me Howard.”’

“You can call me Darcy if and when you believe my story. I have all day. Take a look at my proofs, test them in your lab. Give me two or three hours in a working mechanics lab and I’ll have the non-functional devices working again.”

Howard looked from her to the table and back again. He pinched the bridge of his nose and took a shaky breath. His eyes opened and went from the table to her face and back again. He stood, poured a rattling cup of tea, and drained it in one gulp. “Alright,” he started pacing, “I very much want to look at your toys - is that a rifle, looks nice, what- no! Okay, Miss Lewis, I’ve got some theoretical questions that need real-life answers. But first! What does my father do?”

“Shoemaker on the lower east side. He’s an Italian-Jewish immigrant.”

“Hell’s bells. How did I make my first million?”

“Shortwave portable radio. Followed by the Stark Automatic Pistol, then the Rifle, then you won a military contract, and played the stock market expertly up until the crash.”

“Tell me about any top secret project I am currently working on.”

“It’s September of 1941, you have the schematics drawn out for the first Stark One-Man Tank, a repulsion-based flying car to reveal at the Stark Expo next year, a biochemical product called Midnight Oil designed to lengthen how long soldiers can go without sleep, and-”

“I think that’s enough, really-”

“-you will have just been contacted about Project Rebirth.”

His teacup smashed on the floor. “How in the hell did you know about that? Nobody outside of Colonel Phillips and Dr. Erskine knows about that. It hasn’t even gotten military approval!”

Darcy jumped in her seat at the sound. “Well, the logical explanation would be that I’m telling the truth.”

“Or you’re a really good spy.”

“How good would I have to be, though. Really think about what it would take for me to know what I know.”

“I’ve certainly never seen you before in my life, and you say Jarvis hasn’t either?”

“I think I can safely say neither of you have ever seen me before in your entire lives.”

“And if you’re my grandkid, you’ve been here before?”

“More than once. We didn’t really stay here, but I’ve explored a time or two.”

“Well, good. Take me and all your lovely little gadgets to my lab.”

“Your public lab or the private one?”

Howard spread his hands and shrugged. Darcy huffed a short sigh through her nose and started repacking her bag. Howard nudged the broken teacup with his foot and went to pour himself another cup of tea. “Say I do believe you, and you are really my granddaughter. What do you want from me? Why are you here? You’ve survived this long, and you look like you’re doing alright by yourself.”

“I am. I want in on your projects, and to be your partner. My... friends, they go to war and I know what happens to them. I’d like to put a stop to it if I can. If I can’t, then I want to be as close to them as possible.”

“So your motives are purely altruistic?”

Darcy snorted, “Hardly. I’m going stir crazy sitting on my thumbs in Brooklyn fixing the things you make. I want to be making things again. I need to do _something_ before I go completely off the rails,” She cocked her head to the side, considering, “and I want to have a lab space again.”

“Oh hell, you’re Lewis, you’re the Brooklyn Mechanic! I didn’t know you were a girl.”

Darcy paused with the blueprints in one hand. “Does that matter? My repairs are still good. Better than yours, I’d wager.” She zipped her duffle up with an air of finality.

“Why you-”

“Do you want me to show you I know what I’m talking about or not?” Darcy swung the bag loosely onto her shoulder. Howard drained his tea and indicated he would follow her. Head held high, she set off through the hall. It was much nicer in the 1940s when everything was new and shiny. The library doors were half open, a sure sign that whatever had happened with the woman that morning had interrupted an experiment.

“Nice try, sweetheart, but in case you didn’t notice, this is a library, not a lab.” Howard was still standing in the door with arms crossed and an eyebrow raised. She rolled her eyes at him and walked calmly and confidently toward the north-east corner bookshelf. Howard made a grab for her elbow. “Hey, lady! Oh, son of a bitch. Hey! This is my library!” He seemed to be panicking a little. Darcy raised an eyebrow back and smirked. Staring him dead in the eyes, she twisted the small feminine statue on the third shelf a quarter turn. The mirror-backed shelf swung open into a small closet-like room. She shook her head at him and sashayed into the space, turning the corner and facing a blank wooden wall with moulding across the middle. “You see, Miss Lewis? Nothing but a little hideaway spot. Good for a little fun in the library.”

“Skeevy. I know what I’m about, Howard.” Darcy said scathingly. She hummed a little and reached for a small portion of the wall. The moulding twisted under her fingers and slid into the wall, popping out a small keyboard. _5741231_. The keypad let out a small electronic beep and the wood wall slid upward, revealing an elevator.

“Bullshit. Nobody knows that code. Nobody could have guessed that code. The only person who even knows this place exists is Jarvis. Who are you?”

“Get in the elevator, grandad. I’ve only got until five to explain. Then I’ve got to be in Brooklyn for supper time. “

Howard let out an impressive string of curses, ending with, “So what am I going to do now, you lunatic?” He stepped into the elevator. “You’re accidentally privy to state and military secrets at the highest levels, you've found my top secret lab, and worse yet, you don’t seem to _want_ anything.”

“Trust me, Stark; I want things as much as the next girl. I just have something most people don’t.”

“Knowledge of the future?”

“A plan and the patience to carry it out.” There was silence in the elevator for a couple beats, “Although it does help to know what’s going on.” The doors slid open.

The first time Darcy had seen the lab, almost sixty years from now, it had been dusty, dim, and full of spiders. Here and now, it was a marvel of modern and futuristic technology. Every surface not covered in machinery or experiments was clean to the point of gleaming. The concrete floor was clear of obstructions and obviously swept regularly. An entre war tank was suspended from the ceiling in one corner and in another a chemical concoction dripped through a distillation apparatus. The left wall was almost entirely filing cabinets from floor to ceiling- and now they were clearly full. It was a world away from the slightly haunted place she had stumbled into as a child. Darcy held her bag out to her grandfather, eyes wide, drinking in the details of projects laying half finished on workbenches that stretched in two neat rows through the massive sub-basement of the Stark mansion. “You can have that. I’m going to get my hands all up in that gorgeous _gorgeous_ tank of yours. Excuse me.” She drifted off toward the tank, seemingly oblivious to the rest of the world. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Howard lift the duffle to peek inside. There was practically a treasure trove of modified machinery and never before seen inventions. He swept a table clear impatiently. Darcy allowed her attention to be drawn back to the tank, inspecting it from every angle possible.

It only took Jarvis an hour to find them, in which time Darcy had gotten her dress completely covered in machine oil, and Howard had opened up the radio, discarded it, figured out how to charge her phone and iPod, discarded them, and started trying to build the Einstein-Rosen Bridge Detector. Jarvis let out a long pained sigh. “Sir, are you intending to work though dinner or shall I set the table? Miss Lewis, will you be joining us?”

“Thanks, Jarvis,” She said from under the tank, “but I’m due back home at five.”

“It is four now, Miss Lewis.”

“Jarvis- Look, Darcy, I know you’ve got to be telling the truth, mostly because some of these plastics and things have either just been or are too hard for a gal from Brooklyn to get, but why the sudden interest? A sweet young thing like you shouldn’t want to go take part in a war we don’t even have a stake in.”

Darcy pulled herself out from under the tank and stood up. “You’re wrong, Howard. I have much more of a stake than you would believe. If we don’t win this war, I will never be born. The man I love will die without ever understanding how important he is, you will fail to meet the woman who becomes my grandmother, and the entire course of the world will be changed to something much, much darker and harder to understand. I know you could do it all without me in the front lines with you, but dammit Stark! I’m just as strong as you are. I’ve watched a man die as my best friend held him. I’ve seen things the whole world has refused to believe. I’ve watched my father crawl back from the brink of death twice. I’ve seen men create creatures they call monsters and I’ve seen men become monsters. War only scares me as much as I let it. Don’t try to stand in my way Howard, or you’ll regret every second of it.” Every muscle in her body was trembling from rage and fear, but she held her gaze steady and stared Howard down.

“Holy shit. Well, kid, welcome to the Stark family. Damn. What are we even going to tell people about you?”


	11. TYDL (The Year Darcy Lost)

_                 September 29th, 1941 _

 

        The shop was loud enough to make most conversation useless, which was how Darcy preferred it. Jimmy had a Model-T up on the lifter with two boys knee-deep in car parts while he shouted instructions, abuse, and praise in equal measure. Jamie was gesturing at Al with a look like he was trying to bargain- even though everybody knew you didn’t bargain with Al. Darcy herself was waist deep in a car with Scotty underneath and Rita passing tools and running ignition, trying to get a Cadillac Series 60 to stop choking on the start. 

        “We’ve replaced a gasket and cleaned out the carburetor! Try starting her, and tell me what we do next!” Darcy bellowed at her apprentices. Rita raced over to the keys and tried it again. It coughed, turned, sputtered and choked again. “ALRIGHT! Now! Rita, what did that sound like?”

        “Timing!” Rita shouted back, “We check the belt and try again!”

        “Scotty! Where’s the timing belt? Get up here and show me!” She stood back and watched.

        “She ain’t likin’ me under here, ma’am! Be glad to try!” Scotty’s brogue cut through the shop. He heaved himself out from under the car and passed his wrench to Rita, “You try ‘er cause I canne get the angle!” She gave him a mock salute with the wrench and slid under the car. “This is th’ timin’ belt, but I dinne see anythin wrong when we opened her up!” He shouted.

        “Chmmmmphmm!” Rita shouted from under the car.

        “I cannae hear you, lass!”

        “Check the secondary bolt under the turnaround! Comes loose in this model! And What the HELL did you do the suspension?”

        “LANGUAGE,” Darcy shouted, absently.

        “She just came loose on my the instant I tried to get my hands up there, I dinne ken what t’ do!” He wrenched the bolt under the timing belt and felt it start to shear in the wrench. “Ah, SHIT! She’s startin to shear off, Miss Lewis! What do I do?” 

        “Just hold right still Scotty! What’s the first rule?”

        “If I don’t know, think! If I can’t think, ask! If I don’t ask-”

        “GET LOST!” The room full of teenagers shouted in unison. Darcy laughed with her head tilted back. “Alright, NOISE BREAK! LEARNING TIME!” The sounds in the shop came to a clattering screeching halt. Betty, Laura, and Elise ranged on her left and Andrei, Leo and Bill on Scott’s right. Rita popped up from under the car and tapped Bill’s shoulder until he made room for her. “SO! What have we got here, Scotty?”

        “She’s a Cadillac Series 60 Sport Coop-ay or however ye say the word. When she came in over th’ weekend we thought she was just yer reg’lar tune-up, but we’re been fightin’ her all day. One blown gasket, a clogged carburetor and a shot suspension and she still just won’t start. Now, what I’ve got under my wrench is a bolt that's trying to get itself sheared right off. What do I do now, Miss Lewis?”

        “Anybody know the cure for a shearing bolt?”

        Andrei held up a hand. “With rubber cement, da? Is to be removing bolt, so be gluing a piece to use as... new head of bolt.”

        “Good idea, but not quite.”

        “You wanna take the pressure off the bolt,” Betty leaned over the engine and started pointing, “disengage the timing belt here and here, leaver it up and check it for flaws.”

        “Sure, but we’ve still got a bolt there. How do we get that out?”

        Leo and Laura traded looks. “Pliers and a prayer?” Leo said, shrugging at his sister. “I’d say let it shear, then cut a quick slice in the bolt and use a Phillips' head.” She countered. 

        “Smart, kidlets but still not right.”

        “Weld a nut to the top of the bolt?” Bill asked.

        “Are you asking or telling there Bill?”

        “Telling.” He injected confidence into his tone. “Use a left handed drill bit to get a bit of a bite, and if it comes out enough use pliers, if not, thread a nut on and weld it in place.”

        “Good plan. So, Scotty. What are you gonna do?”

        “Well, I dinnae think the belt was puttin pressure on this here, but Betty’s got the right of it, I oughtta take off the belt and see what’s goin’ on under there. I just dunno if I want to let go here. The way it’s twisted, I feel a wee bit unsafe just pullin’ out.”

        “Doesn’t matter,” Rita said, “It’ll drill with or without the top of the bolt. Or you could ask for help.”

        “Ah, weeell. Rita, lovely, sweet, smart lass-” She rolled her eyes at him. “- If y’ could find it in your incredibly generous heart to just get your tiny little hands right in around this belt and getter off’a th’ bolt, then we can see what’s goin’-” She had a wrench around the other bolt and loosened it and had it off before he finished his flirt. “-and you are a marvel of efficiency, you are. Let’s see, here. Ah, well. She’s comin off either way.” He twisted his wrist and popped the bolt off. Darcy pushed in to take a closer look. 

        “Alrighty then, my darling students. You all did wonderfully. Back to business, all of you.” She shooed the group off playfully. 

        “So, you’re the Brooklyn Mechanic.”

        Darcy stiffened and her hands clenched. She turned slowly. “Howard.” She crossed her arms and leaned back against the car. “It took you long enough.”

        “Oh hell! Sparks?”

        She grinned. “Hey, Jon! Take over for me here, will ya? They’ve got it figured out, just keep your eyes on these two.” She tossed a towel over her shoulder and started cleaning her hands. “So, Howie, brother mine, what brings you to this part of town?”

        “Apparently, my errant sister. You know, you are the worst at writing? All I got from you for five years is an ‘I’m moving out, love Darcy’ and a half-empty bottle of gin for my birthday. Where did you even find the gin?” He was grinning at her now, hands in his pockets.

        “A girl’s got to keep some of her secrets. Besides, you wouldn't like it if I did tell you.”

        “Sure, sure, Sparky. Keep your secrets. Tell me one thing though, where’d you move too? I hired a gumshoe and it still took him a year to find you.”

        “I’ve only been in town for a year. I went looking for- well, a different side of the family. Wound up in Maine, then got shipped back here. Obviously, now I live here.”

        “In a machine shop?”

        “No, you knucklehead. In Brooklyn.”

        “Hey now, no need to get insulting. We’re just having a friendly conversation between siblings. Tell me, why the radio silence for years before you came to see me? What’s going on? Are you in trouble again, Sparky?”

        “Dad’s dead. And I was kicked out of Maine, so I got the train here. Someone stole all my things, so I wound up with my cousin and nothing to prove who I was to your domestic. Besides, you’re the one who left me. I wasn’t sure if you ever wanted to see me again. And, well.” She forced herself to blush, as much as possible, “I found a really nice place here. I just, I missed you. More the fool, I. Now scoot. I still have a whole day of work to do.”

        “Work for me.”

        “Howard...”

        “I’m serious, Darcy. Look, I hated everything about our childhood, except for working with you. Come work with me, like old times.” Howard spread his arms, gesturing for a hug. “Pack it in, Sparks, come on.”

        She looked him up and down, then down at her oil covered work clothes. She shook her head fondly. “Howie, where are your clothes from? Be honest.”

        “This little tailor on Seventh, why?”

        “Look. I’m covered in grease, and you’re lookin’ like a regular sharp. Let’s not and say we did, hey? And I’ll think about it. I’m not on my own now, so I’ve got other people to think of.”

        “What the hell do you mean you’ve got other people to think of?!”

 

        “Steve! I’m home!” Darcy absently shouted into the apartment, tossing her purse beside the coat rack. She took off her boots and started unzipping her coveralls as she walked into their bedroom. “Are you feeling a bit better?”

        He coughed a couple times and rasped, “A bit, yeah. Still pretty sick. Could try soup tonight.”

        “I think Bucky’s stopping at Wong’s grocery before he comes home, so we can have udon. Does that sound good?”

        “Mmm.” He struggled to sit up further and slumped back. Darcy stepped out of her coveralls, leaving her her favourite pair of jeans and the shirt she had been wearing from the future. She sat beside him and started rearranging his pillows. Smiling a little weakly, he put his hand over hers where it rested on the bed. “Sorry I’m so sick.”

        She caught his hand and gently kissed his fingers. “Don’t you apologize for that, mister. I knew what I was getting into and I don’t mind one bit. Are you going to nap for a little longer, or should we set you up on the couch for the evening?”

        “The couch? I want to hear about your day.” He tried to sit again and doubled over in a coughing fit. Darcy hid a wince and grabbed the pillows from the bed once he was clear. The slow shuffle to the couch had to be put on pause a couple times as Steve hacked up more mucus from his lungs. 

        “Have you had the chance to steam your face yet today? It sounds like we’re getting more out of your lungs now, which is good.” She popped the pillows down and watched as he settled in.

        “Not since Bucky left at ten. I also finished the last of my water about an hour ago.”

        “Great!” She kissed his forehead. “I’d kiss you on the mouth, but you’re still coughing up gross shit, so...” He chuckled and started coughing again. Darcy frowned in worry. “Sorry. I’ll try to be less funny.” 

        “Don’t be.” His voice was barely a whisper.

        “Which, sorry or less funny?”

        He grinned, eyes laughing even though he couldn’t. “Either. Both. Love you.”

        “I love you too. Is there anything else you want while I’m in the kitchen?” She tweaked the pillow supporting him playfully. He shook his head no and watched as she turned the corner to the kitchen. “So I had something exciting happen today,” Darcy said, filling the kettle. A noise of curiosity floated in from the living room. “Yeah, I was working on a Series sixty with Scotty and Rita - You remember Rita, right?” Darcy wandered into the living room, picking up some of the bits of clothing that had migrated. “She came over for dinner once. Anyway, we had a shorn bolt and some troubles with the timing belt, so I got distracted enough - Why does Bucky leave his socks  _ everywhere _ ? - that I didn’t notice someone entering the workshop.”

        “Darcy-” Steve coughed a couple times. “You shouldn’t be picking up, that’s my job.”

        She shrugged. “You can’t right now, so I don’t mind. You’ll just have to take over when you feel better. Bucky’ll cook when he gets home, plus, you do almost all of the housework anyway. So like I was saying, someone walked into the workshop, looking for the Brooklyn Mechanic, and normally folks just get the runaround and leave without seeing me, but... It was Howard.”

        “Stark?! What did he say? What did you say? Did he recognize you? No- he wouldn’t right?”

        “Right.  Except- well.”

        “You went to see him yesterday.”

        “How did you know?” Darcy looked at him with wide eyes, holding a rumpled sweater to her chest. Steve laughed a little and started coughing again.

        “Darcy, sweetheart, you are terrible at keeping secrets- well, the sort of secret you want to tell me anyway. I knew as soon as you left yesterday afternoon that you were probably-” Steve broke off to cough, “-probably going to see him.”

        “Are you- do you-”

        “Mind? He’s your family. I’m not sure how you convinced him, but as long as you did...”

        “As far as the shop is concerned I’m his long lost sister, and I’ll be working half-time for him, and half for the shop. He... he took some convincing, but I got him to come around in the end. He’s a sleaze, but he wasn’t a wolf and he shut that off as soon as he saw me. You should see it, we look like some rule 63 gender twist bull.”

        “I’m sorry, what? Wrong time frame, Darce.”

        “We look like male-female versions of each other.” The kettle started its half-hearted whistle that meant it wasn’t quite ready, but wanted some attention. “I- he offered to have me live with him-” the kettle made up its mind and started to whistle in earnest. Darcy abandoned the pair of pants she was holding to the chaos of the floor. The kettle was cheerfully screeching away as if it hadn’t just interrupted a very important conversation. Darcy snapped off the burner with an impatient sigh. “Steve? Did you want another cup of tea or more water?”

        “Just water please!”

        “You got it, babe.” She snagged a towel off of the oven door and poured the boiling water into a large ceramic bowl. With the towel keeping the bowl from burning her hands, she set it on the coffee table and went back into the kitchen to pour a glass of water. “So he asked me to move in with him- somehow implying that he was very put-upon to even have to offer- and then when I asked about his ‘lady friends’-”

        “I’d- I’m- If you want to I can’t stop you. Not that I would want to! You can do what you want- not that you needed my permission. But... I’d- I’d really miss you Darce.” Steve’s voice came out slightly muffled from under the towel.

        “Steve! If you think I’m going to leave just because I got a half-hearted offer from my grandfather, you’ve got another thing coming mister.” Darcy put the glass down with a thunk.

        “You deserve the best, the best of everything and I-”

        “Do we need to have another talk about who gets to decide what’s best for me?”

        He pulled the towel off of his head and looked at her, red-cheeked and wide-eyed. “Of course not! Darcy, you are your own person, and you make your own decisions.” He started coughing again and stuck his head back under the towel.

        “Good. Then I’m staying, and you don’t get to say a thing about it.”

        “Are you? For good?”

        “As good as it gets, Stevie. We’re in it for the long haul, babe.”

        “Good. Love you.”

        “I love you too.”

 

_ October 20th, 1941 _

 

        Darcy dripped her way up the stairs, umbrella closed and utterly useless earlier that day. Between the wind and the rain, she had been soaked from head to toe. The very attractive feeling of being a drowned rat followed her into the apartment like a shitty, shitty, fog. “I’m home! Steve? Bucky?” A towel flashed over her vision and she was being roughly dried as someone wheeze-laughed in the background. “Bucky,” She growled, “You-” The towel covered her mouth. She twisted out of his hands, grabbing the towel and tugging, hard. “You sonofabitch. You’re a real piece of work, you know that?”

        Bucky dropped the towel, laughing. “Thought you might need a dryoff and a pick-me-up, doll. Just tryin’ to do right by my favourite cousin.” Darcy narrowed her eyes at him and flicked him with the towel. “Ouch! Hey, now- what’s got you in a tizzy?” He held up his hands.

        “Darcy, are you okay?” 

        “I hate-” She pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. “I hate rain and buses, and when Howard works late. I love you both, but I’m not in the mood. Can we just...”

        “How about a reading night? I’m on dishes and clean up, so if you read while we cook, I’ll take over after I clean.”

        “That sounds perfect. I love you so much.”

        She face planted on the couch and reached a blind hand toward the coffee table, groping for the book. As the sounds in the kitchen started, she found it and flipped over to start reading. “A Princess of Mars, by Edgar Rice Burroughs. ‘I am a very old man, how old I do not know...”

 

_                 November 20th, 1941 _

 

        “Becky! Erik! How are you?” Darcy threw her arms around Rebecca. “Welcome back! I’m so glad you could make it to Thanksgiving again. We don’t have much, but what we do looks pretty good!”

        “Tante Darcy!”

        “Hello, Jack! How are you? Oh my gosh is that baby Eva?”

        Erik jigged the six-month-old a little. “It sure is. Would you like to hold her?”

        “I would love to!” Darcy took ahold of the sleeping baby and rocked her back and forth. “She’s so tiny and perfect.”

        “Don’t tell me you want one, Darcy, I think Steve may never recover.”

        “Oh, you shush. Bucky, tell your sister to leave me alone.”

        “I’m not getting into this! You’re on your own.” Bucky hollered from the kitchen

        “Buck, you were born in. You don’t get a choice in this chaos.” Steve stepped into the apartment, arms full of dishes. He kissed Darcy on the cheek and made a face at Eva.

        “Oh? Then what’s your excuse, Mister Rogers?” Darcy teased.

        “Too kind-hearted to kick the lot of you out. It’s Thanksgiving!”

        “Oh yeah,” said Bucky, drying his hands as he sauntered out of the kitchen, “We cook and clean for him, and he’s just too  _ nice _ to make us leave. Hey Beck. Hey Erik.” 

        “Exactly. The things I put up with.” Steve said laughingly, handing off the food and crouching down to help Jack out of his coat.

        “Onkel Bucky! I’m seven.”

        “Woah! That’s pretty old. Do you know how old I am? I’m three times your age. That’s three sevens.”

        Jack looked at him with wide eyes. “Onkel Bucky?”

        “Yeah, buddy?”

        “You’re old.” The completely serious tone he delivered that announcement in was ruined by the fact that every adult in the house burst out laughing. Jack huffed and crossed his arms. Bucky ruffled his hair affectionately.

        “Let’s get everyone out of the entryway and into the apartment, shall we?”

        The smell of pumpkin pie curled through the apartment, warming every corner. Freshly baked bread sat cooling on the counter, and a pot of stock was simmering on the stove. “So what can I do to help?” asked Rebecca.

        “Oh no, you don’t!” Darcy passed her back the baby. “You have a seven-year-old and a baby. You’re staying right there until it’s time for supper.”

        Rebecca laughed. “I can see who’s in charge of this house now!” 

        “Is it Darcy?” Bucky said from the kitchen, setting the food down, “Please tell me it’s Darcy, I’m not ready for the responsibility.” He tossed a dish towel over his shoulder and leaned over the couch.

        “You could settle down!” Steve teased, “Get a house, and a white picket fence, and- Hey!” Bucky looped him into a headlock and gave him a noogie.

        “Well, it sure as heck isn’t you, punk!”

        “Jerk! C’mon it’s Thanksgiving, give me a break-”

        “Break it up, you two- you’ll start giving Jack ideas.” Erik supplied from the armchair. 

        “Give me ideas about what, Papa?” Jack asked suspiciously, tugging on his father’s sweater.

        “Ideas about being too much like your uncles,” Becky said, rolling her eyes fondly. “So what’s our plan for today? Are we going to visit mom and dad, Bucky?” 

        “Yeah, for sure. I was wondering if we could bring Darcy to meet her... great-great-grandparents?”

        “Bucky!” Darcy looked scandalized.

        “What? It’s not like you didn’t know she knew. You have the family veil.”

        “It might have been nice of you to break it to her gently. Or at least try to pretend we aren’t a family of forecastle lawyers- and Darcy, don’t you bust your chops- I could tell you were going to spill your guts before long.”

        “Oddly enough,” Erik interjected, “I got the name Lewis from you-”

        “Bull!”

        “No kidding- I thought about how close our last name was to yours, but how yours made you sound a hundred percent American.”

        “I think I’m getting a time-loop headache again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I kept trying to get this chapter out and with the right timeline for the story, but it's already longer than most other chapters- so here, have half now, and half later. I'm sorry it keeps taking me so long to get these up. My apartment building was broken into seven times in two weeks and our keys were stolen, so I've had to replace the deadbolt and get a security lock. Stress, stress, stress. I'm still writing this though! It is my top priority for fanfic at the moment, and we have an actual outline all the way to the end. here's hoping things settle!


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